


that's when my life begins

by iclaimedtobethebetterbard (foolofaperegrin)



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, But we'll get there, College, Gen, Homophobia, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Nonbinary Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Nonbinary Sleep | Remy Sanders, Pining, Slow Burn, Trans Logic | Logan Sanders, Transphobia, all the sides are sympathetic and i love them, also seriously someone give logan a fidget toy 2k20, and hes just going to have to deal with them for a whole year, anyway i love platonic intrulogical shenanigans they're the best, but also in the first 30 seconds he knew them, but tbh i am Not Sure, i think that those drink modifications are 1 possible and 2 hopefully would taste okay together, it should only be minor and in flashbacks but it will be mentioned, janus and logan interacting are just the "me an intellectual" meme but constantly escalating, janus's parents are Not Fun :(, like he thinks they're hilarious and he loves them, listen i love RA!c!thomas so much y'all don't even know, more tags to be added as we go!, oh y'all KNOW we are getting some background c!thomas/nico flores after that asides omg, pining royality, poor starbucks baristas, remus happily risked both injury and property damage for a laugh, remy hasn't questioned his gender yet!, remys come to town, rip thomas, rip tomathy, tbh probably royality and dukeceit will both be slow burn, the creativitwins: pure elemental chaos given form, they will never live in peace again, they're not the best for thomas's blood pressure though, will i add remile? that remains to be seen dear readers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:14:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25145263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foolofaperegrin/pseuds/iclaimedtobethebetterbard
Summary: college au ft. analogical + slowburn royality + eventual dukeceit. also ft. Tired™ RA character!thomas. title is from tangled bc i love that movie.When seven new students at a university find themselves all living together in the tiny Pride housing group, relationships of all sorts are formed, tested, and maybe even broken. No matter how they come out of this, this is going to be one of the most important years of their lives. They're trying to make that a good thing.See beginnings of chapters for more notes.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil & Creativity | Roman & Logic | Logan & Morality | Patton, Anxiety | Virgil & Creativity | Roman & Logic | Logan & Morality | Patton & Thomas Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Background Remile - Relationship, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Thomas Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders & Thomas Sanders, Karrot Kings, temporary moceit
Comments: 19
Kudos: 92





	1. Move In Day - Janus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Janus has flown halfway across the country because he's so desperate to be rid of his folks. He just has to get through one more morning.

Janus woke to his phone, beeping to a new alarm tone. He slapped at it groggily, pulling it closer to his face and squinting at it. 8am already. Damn. 

Though it was the last thing he wanted to do, he rolled out of the hotel bed—the blankets were yellow, which was a good color—and made his way to the tiny bathroom to brush his teeth. He stared at himself in the mirror. He looked tired, which was no good. As far as his parents knew, he’d turned in for the night at ten sharp. He rinsed and spat, then turned the faucet to full blast on cold and splashed it on his face, sending himself into a spluttering fit. 

He composed himself and looked back into the mirror. That was a little better; he certainly seemed more alert. 

Janus changed quickly into the outfit he’d laid out the night before—a yellow turtleneck, black denim jacket, and matching black skinny jeans—and packed his pajamas back into the small suitcase that was all he’d brought up to the room from the car. He moved back to the bathroom and began messing with his hair, still damp from splashing his face. After trying combing it back, then to the side, he let it fall forward and almost into his eyes. 

Janus turned around in the room, ensured there was nothing left to pack, and seated himself on the bed criss-cross. He opened Discord. No new messages. He drummed his fingers on the bedspread, decided there was nothing to be done about that just now, and dug into the smallest pocket on his suitcase, pulling out a little pin-on button. He glanced at his phone again. Only quarter past eight.

“Janus, are you up?” Janus’s mother rapped on his bedroom door. 

Janus quickly tucked the pin into his pocket. “Yes, ma’am.” He rose from the neatly made bed and opened the door. 

“Good,” she said, a little impatiently, but she smiled at him nonetheless. She tucked a strand of her blonde hair that had escaped from her ponytail behind her ear, then began to fuss with his own hair—also blond, though a more natural color than hers. 

“Mother— _Mom_ —I like it like this—” he protested, squirming away. 

“You look so much better with it out of your eyes, though,” she said indulgently. “They're your best feature. Where’s your father? We should get going.” 

“Wasn’t Juno going to call?” Janus asked carefully. He missed his older sister, and she’d promised him a facetime. Her university, all the way in San Francisco, ran on the semester system and had started classes a few weeks ago, so she wasn’t able to actually be here to help with the move in. Their younger sibling, Jupiter, had been left at home with a nanny, since he was only eight and his parents didn’t seem to consider him old enough yet to be worthy of more than a couple hours of their attention at a time. Certainly not a trip spanning multiple days. 

“Oh, that’s right, she did want to call today.” His mother pursed her lips, then shrugged. “Well. I suppose we have time for a brief call. And then no more delays, we’ve got to get our little man moved in! Henry—Henry, Janus wants to call Juno.”

“Fine by me,” his father said from the other bedroom. 

“Henry!” Janus’s mother crossed her arms. “That means that _you—”_

“Kidding. Julie, I’m kidding. I’m coming.” His father chuckled a little, in that odd way that wasn’t really amused but was more to absolve himself of any wrongdoing by turning it into a joke.

Soon Janus was situated between his two parents on the little couch in the main room of the hotel suite. His father hit call. 

Juno picked up on the second ring. “Hey, y’all!” she greeted. She was clearly seated on her bed, wearing a white tank top with a rainbow on it and gray yoga pants.

Janus grinned at her. “Hi,” he said, soft but so happy. 

“Juno, _what_ did you do to your _hair?_ ” their mother demanded, scandalized. 

“It’s called an undercut.” Juno looked incredibly unconcerned, studying her fingernails in a way Janus knew well. It was a simple technique: pretend not to care, and it becomes less of a big deal in the eyes of the parents.

Usually that worked, at least. “Juno, you look like a—well—it’s not _proper_ ,” their father demurred, refusing to be sated by her comment.

“Your aura is _terrible_ ,” their mother added. Janus, since both parents were focused on staring at Juno’s face on the phone, dared an eye roll. He was fairly certain their mother didn’t even know what an aura was. 

Juno frowned, running a hand through her hair. “I think it’s stylish, and so do my friends. My friend Lisa got one last month.” This was important because while Juno was single, Lisa had a boyfriend, Frank, who was kind and rather forgettable. “Let’s not make this about me, though,” Juno went on. “Today is JJ’s big day!”

“Don’t _call_ me that,” Janus begged.

“Sorry, JanJan.”

“Worse.”  
She grinned and stuck her tongue out at him. “You excited?” 

“Of course,” Janus said in the most neutral tone he could muster. 

“So excited, he chose the school pride dorm!” his father added proudly. “The kid just can’t wait to be an Eagle.” 

“The school—” Juno blinked.

“School pride dorm,” Janus interjected smoothly, putting on his best “perfect son” smile. “For those who take especial pride in the school we attend. Merch everywhere. Eagle mascots galore. I’m sure it will be excellent for networking purposes.”

“Ah, I see.” Juno smiled. “You really are excited, then?” 

“Yes,” Janus said calmly. 

“We really ought to get a move on,” his father said. “Move-in begins at nine am sharp, and we’ve got to pick up breakfast. We didn’t fly halfway across the country to be late!” He chuckled. 

“Of course not,” Janus agreed, though he didn’t want the call to be over so soon. Getting breakfast was important. Especially after only five hours of sleep. Granted, he’d survived on less before, but there was a lot to do today. “Nice speaking with you, Juno.” 

“You too, little brother. Love you.” Juno blew kisses at the camera. “Call me again later! I want to see your dorm.” 

“Goodbye, darling,” their mother said, and their father hit the “end call” button.

“Now!” Henry got to his feet and stretched. “To the car!” 

In the car, Janus rested his elbow on the edge of the window, staring out of it. 

“We should remember to pick up your textbooks before we leave,” his mother said as his father backed out of the parking space. 

“It’s alright, I know I can manage,” Janus said. 

“That’s my boy,” his father said approvingly. “Now, I know you said you aren’t interested in rushing a fraternity—”

“I’m still not.” 

“—but I think you should at least consider. It’s an excellent networking—”

“Networking opportunity, I know.” Janus did his best to keep his irritation out of his voice and sound uninterested. “I’ll think about it.” 

“Your father is right, dear.” His mother turned around in the seat and placed a hand on his. “It would be fantastic for your career opportunities. Plus, you’ll be sure to meet some nice sororiety girls.” 

“I’m sure I will meet plenty of girls regardless of what I do,” Janus said calmly. “But I’ll consider it.” He dug his phone out of his pocket and opened the Sudoku app. 

At the breakfast place his father had chosen, which was in Janus’s eyes no more than a glorified fast food place, the food they’d preordered last night were already waiting. They sat at one of the outside tables, the sort that were made of wire with loads of holes and coated in bright colored plasticky stuff. Janus wolfed down two over easy eggs and a piece of avocado toast, while his mother picked at a green smoothie she clearly didn’t like and his father ate something horrifyingly greasy. His mother kept shooting little disapproving looks at his father, which were all patently ignored. Janus ducked his head and devoted himself even more fervently to the eggs. 

“Honey, look up and smile. I’m Gramming you.” 

“I don’t think that’s what it’s called,” Janus muttered, but looked up and gave his mother’s phone his best smile.

“Rest your face on your hand, you’ll give off more natural vibes,” she instructed. 

Janus sighed, knowing the real reason, and rested his left cheek in his hand so his scar was less noticeable. 

“Aren’t you handsome?” she gushed, and the camera flashed in his eyes. 

The university was only a few minutes away from the fast food place; Janus was only halfway through his second game of Sudoku when his father pulled up to the curb. Volunteers helped them unload the bags and boxes into three carts and wheel them towards the dorm. There were a couple of students, RAs probably, at a table by the door labeled “CHECK IN” in big letters clearly cut out of construction paper. Janus made his way over to this as his father began complaining to one of the volunteers, who’d been stuck with the heaviest cart—it seemed to have a sticky wheel and had veered off the sidewalk, and now he was blaming her for it. 

“Welcome!” the girl at the table said. “First move in of the day! What’s your name?”

“Janus Atkins.” 

“There you are!” She marked his name off a list. “Have you picked up your school ID yet?”

“Not yet. I’m out of state.” 

“Well, then, you’ll want to do that after you move in. There’s a booth outside the bookstore. You’ll need a photo ID with you to pick up your… other ID. Do you know where the bookstore is?” 

Janus gave her a charming smile. “I’ll manage. Thank you so much.” 

“No problem! And here…” She shuffled through a box briefly. “...is your key! Have a great move in!” 

Janus took the envelope with another expression of gratitude and took the stairs two at a time to the second floor, where his parents were waiting. Thankfully, his father’s harassing of the poor volunteer had delayed them somewhat, and they hadn’t spent long up here. Janus wanted to control the next half hour or so as much as was in his power. A lot depended on it.

And it was already going wrong. 

“Meet Your RA: Thomas Sanders,” his mother read aloud off a handmade sign on the wall (featuring more construction paper—honestly, did they have some sort of RA code swearing to use nothing else for decor?) as Janus stepped in. 

“ _Pink_ letters?” His father stared at Thomas’s name on the sign. “What a wimpy—”

“Oh, it says here he’s a _Taurus,_ that explains it,” his mother said. 

Janus had no idea what the problem with Tauruses was in her eyes, nor did he care to find out; he’d just seen the “he/him/his” pronouns and little rainbow flag in the bottom corner of the sign. His parents didn't seem to have noticed. Yet.

“Father, mother, can we move me in first?” Janus interrupted. “I’m sure I’ll actually meet the RA later.” 

“Whatever you say, buddy,” his father agreed with a shrug as both parents turned away from the poster and Janus released the breath he was holding. “Which room is it?”

“Room 204,” Janus said, looking around until he spotted the door.

“Oh, how _cute,_ ” his mother said. There were sea animals, also made of construction paper, on the doors, each one labeled with a name. Janus’s appeared to be a yellow whale.

“Janus—Roman God of gateways and beginnings,” read a little strip of paper beneath the whale. His roommate, who was apparently named Virgil, had “Strong, flourishing,” written underneath his animal—a purple seahorse. Excellent. It was unlikely he’d get his name made fun of for being “weird” from a Virgil. 

Janus cracked a smile as he unlocked the door. Including the meanings of everyone’s names was a neat little touch. Thoughtful. He had a feeling this Thomas wasn’t going to be half bad.

The next twenty minutes were a whirl of activity, mainly on his parents’ part. He trailed along in their wake, doing whatever they asked of him, not bothering to make any effort to give his own input into what was happening. It would be a losing battle. He intended to let them have their picture-perfect move-in-the-son—it was the path of least resistance. 

Once everything was unpacked, his mother made him pose by the bed, then the desk, then the window, as she snapped dozens of photos. He smiled. The camera flashed. He smiled again. And again. Flash. Flash. “Turn to face the window, Janus, honey, I want to get your _good_ side.” Ignore the stab of her unspoken meaning. Turn. Smile. Flash. 

Before long, and yet nowhere near soon enough—

“Well, champ.” His father clapped him on the shoulder. “We’d best be off. That plane isn’t going to catch itself!”

“No, indeed,” Janus agreed, moving forward so his mother could hug him. “Thank you for the help,” he added. “The room looks wonderful.” 

“Anything for you, sweetie,” his mother assured him. She snapped one last picture of him, sniffling. “I can’t believe he’s all grown up,” she said, looking up at his father. 

Henry cracked a smile that looked rather constipated. “We’re proud of you, son. Call soon.” 

With that, his parents took their leave. Janus watched them until the elevator doors closed.

He took a deep breath, all the tension in his shoulders relaxing. They were gone. They hadn’t realized anything. He’d done it. 

Standing in the middle of the common area, Janus shot a quick text to Juno— _things in, folks out!_

She responded almost instantly. _Way to go! Proud of you_

_Hehehe_

_Proud_

_Get it?_

_Like your ““school pride”” dorm_

_I still can’t believe they fell for that omg_

Janus rolled his eyes. _I get it,_ he typed. _I’m going to rearrange my things now. I can call this afternoon?_

She sent a kissy face emoji. _Sounds fantastic! Love you!_

Janus opened Discord again. Still no messages. He moved to Settings and turned on notifications for the app. He didn't need to worry about what showed up on his lockscreen anymore.

 _Julie_Atkins tagged you in a photo!_ Instagram begged for his attention.

Janus sighed and clicked. A photo of his smiling face, scar half hidden behind his hand, stared up at him. His mother’s smoothie featured prominently in the foreground; his father’s greasy food was entirely cut out of the picture. It was captioned “Last breakfast before our boy becomes a college man! #college #life #greensmoothie #proudparent #eagleparent #parent #parenting #goodvibes #movein #firstdayofcollege #collegemovein #son #handsome #collegeparent #health #healthy #proudmama #proudmother #collegebound #breakfast #vegan #detox #greenjuice #vegansmoothie #veganlife #kale #thriving.” The post, three minutes old, already had 37 likes and 8 comments, none from people he knew.

Janus rolled his eyes, liked the post so his mother wouldn’t text him about it later, and slid his phone back into his pocket, where the pin he’d put there earlier still was. He pulled it out now and affixed it to his jacket’s lapel. It simply bore his pronouns—he/him/his—in white lettering over a Philadelphia rainbow background. Janus grinned, ran his fingers through his hair so it fell over his forehead once again, turned on his heel, and stepped back into his room. He shut the door behind him and set to work.

He dragged the beanbag chair to a completely different location, switched the expensive sheets to nicer, soft ones, and rearranged the contents of every drawer in his desk. Outside, he could hear someone else moving into a nearby room, but he paid the noises no heed. When he was finally satisfied with the arrangements of his things, Janus kicked off his shoes and climbed onto the bottom bunk. He checked his phone once again. 

A new notification from Discord flashed onto the screen, and he felt some of the tension in his shoulders relaxing. He opened it. 

_CryptidWife: hey deceit_

_CryptidWife: thanks for talking w me last night, dude_

_CryptidWife: like seriously_

_CryptidWife: im really glad u were there & willing to talk to me _

Janus half smiled and his fingers flew over the touchscreen. 

_LordOfTheLies: it’s no problem, misty_

_LordOfTheLies: glad I could be there for you_

_LordOfTheLies: & glad talking about it helped to some degree. _

_LordOfTheLies: let me know if u need anything else._

_CryptidWife: <3 <3 _

_LordOfTheLies: ;)_

When no new messages immediately appeared, Janus exited the app. Misty was doing alright. He’d known as much, sure, but he still hadn’t been able to help but worry earlier this morning when there had been no new messages. She’d been dealing with some sort of drastic family schism, and Janus understood hurting because of family. They’d stayed up talking until three in the morning, when he’d finally convinced her to get some sleep.

Janus set an alarm on his phone for noon. He deserved a nap. Whoever was moving in across the hall could wait to be met until later. He pulled a light blanket over himself and let his eyes slip shut as the tiredness he’d been ignoring finally washed over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it bears mentioning that janus's mother is in no way actually vegan, she just used the hashtags to get more likes.
> 
> Next up: 2nd to move in - Logan!


	2. Move In Day - Logan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> logan has been waiting for years for this day, even if it is just a tad bittersweet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> logan is v Soft TM around his family. he feels super comfortable around them & they have normalized expressing emotions. he does not always behave this way—he just has an extremely high level of trust with his uncle and aunt that he doesn't with almost anyone else. so he is way softer in this chapter than he will be for quite a while after this whoops. (cough guess which character is the author self insert cough)
> 
> big big ty to @pattoncake-and-eyeshadow for beta-ing this chapter!!

“Morning, little star,” Logan’s Tía Vanessa greeted him as he emerged from his bedroom, making a beeline for the coffee pot and rubbing his eyes. 

“Morning, Tía V.” He cracked a grin at her, pouring a cup a little more than halfway full and adding a couple of slices of bread into the toaster. 

She pushed the Crofter’s towards him as he set the coffee down on the tiny kitchen table across from her. “Are you excited?” she asked with a fond smile.

The grin on his face widened. “Yeah,” he allowed, pulling the sugar out of the cupboard and reaching for a spoon. 

There was a pause. “Lo, are you wearing your binder already?”

Logan pulled a face. “It’s the first day of college,” he said defensively. 

“You make sure you don’t wear it all day, then,” she warned. 

“I _know,_ Tía V. I’ll be safe, promise.” Logan spooned several tablespoons of sugar into the coffee. 

“Alright. I trust you, bookworm. You know you don’t have to drink that if you don’t like it, yes?” she asked, amused, pointing at the coffee just as she did at least once a week. 

“I _do_ like coffee,” Logan insisted. “Just only if it has sugar and milk in it.” He pulled the milk out of the fridge as he spoke.

“Honey, that’s more milk than coffee.” 

“No, it’s not,” he protested halfheartedly. “It’s technically about a 5 to 4 coffee to milk ratio.”

She shook her head, smiling at him, as his toast popped out of the toaster. He turned in his seat and picked it out without getting up, transferred it to the waiting plate, and turned back around to place it on the table. The kitchen might be tiny, but it saved a lot of time not having to walk around it while preparing food.

“Maybe save it until after we move you in?” Tía V suggested, circling back to the binder. “That way you can wear it longer into the afternoon.” 

Logan sighed. “Fine,” he allowed, heading back into his room to change into a baggy sweatshirt. 

“Is Tío J up yet?” Logan asked as, back at the kitchen table, he began spreading the strawberry jam onto his toast. Tía V’s boyfriend Joseph was clearly _not_ up yet, since he was nowhere to be seen and that narrowed it down to the bathroom, which was open, or in the other bedroom, which was the only other room with a door. But it was more polite to ask. 

“Not yet. We’ll have to wake him,” Tía V said. She grinned and joked, “Slacker probably wants to get out of loading up the car.”

“He often sleeps in,” Logan said. He thought it was very likely Joseph would not mind sleeping through packing the car, but he doubted this was on purpose. Joseph rarely rose before 10, sometimes not until noon. “Are we still leaving at nine?” Leaving at nine provided travel time plus ten minutes, to ensure they’d be on time for his 9:45 timeslot. 

“Nine sharp!” Tía V confirmed. “We early birds are taking _full_ advantage of our morning crowd-avoiding powers, don’t you worry.” 

The two fell into a comfortable silence for a few moments while Logan ate his breakfast and Tía V washed up her own dishes. 

“Your roommate is moving in this afternoon, yeah?” Tía V asked conversationally when Logan rose to wash his own plate. 

Logan nodded. “At three pm. The school gave us each other’s contact information and we’ve been texting for a few days. He’s called Remus Kingsley. He’s double majoring in Biology and Studio Art, and he’s got a twin brother who’s actually living in the same dorm building with us. He seems nice. A little energetic, maybe. He sends me memes.” This, in Logan’s eyes, was both a positive and a negative. The exposure to popular culture was nice, and the memes were sometimes amusing, but they could also be confusing, and Remus’s taste seemed to be rather… eccentric.

“Joseph, honey, stop snoozing your alarm!” Tía V called out as a ringing emanated from the bedroom. A deep voice, sleep-heavy, swore several times and there were vague thumping noises before the alarm finally stopped. 

Tía V opened the door and poked her head in. “Rise and shine, love. We’ve gotta drive L to move-in.” 

“Shit! Right. Good morning, my only angel.” Tío J raised his voice. “Morning, Logan!”

“Morning, Tío J,” Logan responded, ducking into the bathroom and grabbing his toothbrush before anyone else could beat him there. 

Half an hour later, the car was packed, Tía V had double-checked everything on Logan’s list, and Logan had triple-checked after her. 

“You two ready?” Tío J asked from the door of the apartment. 

Tía V smiled at Logan as he surveyed his room one last time. 

“Ready,” Logan declared with a nod, setting his shoulders and marching out the door. 

In the car, Logan went over his plan for the day aloud, leg bouncing up and down as he fidgeted with his Rubik’s cube. Not that Tía V and Tío J didn’t already know, but it felt good to talk it over again. 

“And then Orientation starts tomorrow, it lasts for three days. The first day is mostly about getting to know the campus, the second day is educational, and the third is group activities. Your group members will all be people from your dorm, so you have friends moving forward,” Logan rambled, moving on from today’s plans to the plans for the week. “Then classes start on Monday. I have a chemistry class with my roommate! We compared schedules and we’re in the same section. That’ll be on Monday and Wednesday afternoons, and I have a History class the mornings, and on Tuesdays I have a Physics class and Social Sciences 101. I think I’d better apply for my minors as soon as possible…” He continued on for the remainder of the car ride. The university he was attending was only a half hour drive from Tía V’s apartment, which was a very definite positive in Logan’s eyes. 

Volunteers in t-shirts bearing the university’s colors helped Logan and his family unpack their belongings into a cart and wheel it up from the parking lot to the red brick dorm building. 

“You can check in over there,” one volunteer directed, pointing Logan to a table set up outside the door. 

“Hi! Welcome!” a girl with wispy brown hair in a braid greeted him. “Name?” 

“Logan Ortiz.” 

“Awesome, you're right on time! And have you got your school ID yet?” She marked his name off with a yellow highlighter from the list on her clipboard.

“I have.” He pulled it out of his wallet. There had been early pickup dates for local students. 

“Oh, that’s fantastic! Thanks so much. Let’s get your key out…” She sorted through a box full of envelopes before fishing one out with Logan’s name written on it in scribbly ballpoint pen. “Here you go. Room 206. Up those stairs, or the elevator is just down the hall. Let us know if you need any help with anything!” 

“Thank you,” Logan said, following Tía V and Tío J into the building as they wheeled the cart towards the elevator. “I can help,” he offered, trying to take over Tío J’s spot.

“No way, buddy. Don’t deprive me of the joy of moving you in.” Tío J ruffled Logan’s hair. 

Logan couldn’t hold back a grin as the three of them walked towards his new room. A dark blue sea turtle labeled “Logan - Little Hollow, From the Cove” sat on the door, right at his eye level. The lock clicked open and he stepped in. 

It wasn’t particularly out of the ordinary, particularly as college dorms went. The tiny room was even smaller than the living room at home. A bunk bed made of industrial-looking metal beams and two desks with a pair of trash cans between them lined one wall, while the opposite wall housed a pair of closets and a mirror. The narrow wall at the far end of the room was taken up by a window, with a sill deep enough to sit in. The walls were bare, filled with tackholes from the no doubt illegal decor of past residents, and an unappealing shade of gray, and the floor was threadbare green carpet. A long fluorescent light bar sat in the middle of the high ceiling. The room was tiny, and ugly. But it was _his,_ his own college dorm, and he was _here,_ he’d done it, and nothing could stop the elation bubbling through his veins. 

“It’s perfect,” he said, looking over at Tía V, unable to stop smiling. 

“I’m glad,” she said, smiling back. “Let’s get you set up!” 

Logan picked the top bunk, the closet closer to the window, and the desk closer to the beds, trying to take a mix of better-situated elements and less desirable ones to be fair to Remus. He’d tried to get Remus to plan out ahead of time with him who would use what based on the room layouts available online, but Remus had said he didn’t care, that whoever moved in first could take his pick, and then sent a frankly indecipherable meme, presumably meant to underscore his point. It had been a less than preferable arrangement, since it left variables unaccounted for, but it had allowed Logan to plan at least a little. He’d tried not to. It felt unfair to plan ahead if Remus wouldn’t also partake in the planning. He knew it was irrational; Tía V had said as much when he explained it to her yesterday. He’d still maintained that any plans he had for which furniture he’d use would remain unofficial until he actually arrived.

The building was quiet; it seemed few people on this floor had selected early move-in times. There were some girls presumably moving into the third floor who kept passing by outside, but the second floor was quiet until just past 11am, right as they were wrapping up unpacking Logan’s belongings. They hadn’t gotten things done very efficiently, but Logan was by no means inclined to rush things. 

“Sounds like a neighbor,” Tío J observed as a boy’s laughter bubbled in from the common area outside. “Want to go say hello?” 

Logan sat up from where he had happily spreadeagled himself on his starry sheets. “Sure,” he said after a moment’s pause to think it over, climbing down. 

“Look at you socializing! So proud,” Tío J said with a playful elbow. 

Logan rolled his eyes and pulled open the door. 

An elderly woman and a boy, both with warm sepia-brown skin, met his gaze. The boy was unlocking the door next to Logan’s own. 

“Hi,” Logan said, then stopped, staring at the boy. He looked familiar. Logan sorted through memories… he certainly wasn’t from high school, Logan’s friend group had been small and hadn’t really shifted. 

“Hello!” the boy said with a cheerful grin. 

The voice was what made it click. Patton Evans, Logan’s brain supplied. The boy who sat behind him in middle school English and made puns about the assigned reading. Logan felt his whole mood dropping, a clenching feeling of dread blossoming in his chest, almost like his heart had just shriveled up like the world’s unhappiest prune. He didn’t want another Ernie Williams moment. Not today. Not any day, but especially not today. 

Maybe Patton wouldn’t remember or recognize him. That seemed like the best outcome. 

Patton and the woman—probably his grandmother—were both looking at him. It was his turn to talk. He needed to say something. 

“You’re moving in, too?” A stupid question—what else would Patton be doing?—but the sort of question that might function as a conversation opener. 

“Yes!” Patton said, cheery smile back in place. “I can say I’m feeling anything but crabby!” He pointed at the door, where a light blue crab bore his name. 

Logan resisted the urge to groan. Patton hadn’t changed much, it seemed, at least on the superficial surface level. “Nice pun,” he said instead, wishing he could go back into his room and shut the door and pretend he’d never met Patton. Not today. Today was supposed to be perfect. He’d had a _plan._ It hadn’t involved memories of the hell that was middle school, or worse, people from middle school. 

“Hold on, didn’t we go to Wallerton together?” Patton asked suddenly, a light going on in his face. 

Logan froze, no idea what to say. “I—y—” 

Ernie had asked that almost word for word, gone on to deadname him and call him slurs, and shoved him into the shelves in the grocery store. Logan _knew_ expecting more of the same from a completely different person was an illogical train of thought. Most people he met were nowhere near as transphobic as Ernie had been. But the feeling of panic situated squarely above his diaphragm was hard to ignore. 

Patton tipped his head to the side, giving Logan a look that he couldn’t quite read. “I’ve totally forgotten your name, I’m so sorry! I’m Patton if you don’t remember! We sat by each other in English.” 

Logan had never thought he’d empathize so much with a Windows error message. That made no _sense._ What could be going through Patton’s head right now about him—

“You always had the smartest things to say in English! You were on a whole different level from everyone else,” Patton enthused. 

“That’s an overexaggeration,” Logan said, latching onto this new tidbit, since it was more easily quantified as a statement. “There were plenty of people who were more than proficient in the class. I’m—I’m Logan.” 

“Logan, right! That was definitely my bad. Good to see you again, dude!” Patton flashed yet another grin. 

It clicked in Logan’s head that Patton had to be doing this on purpose. It took approximately two seconds for his brain to expand on this realization and point out that _this was the Pride dorm, of COURSE_ Patton, who was a normal friendly person, would be expected to have a much better reaction than goddamn _Ernie Williams,_ who had been a legitimate bully. And the dorm was needlessly gendered, too; this was the boys’ section. Of _course_ Patton could have realized from the circumstantial evidence that the name he’d known Logan by probably wasn’t correct anymore. “Stupid” might not be an emotion, but Logan was definitely feeling it right now, even as a small voice in his head piped up that negative emotions could easily cloud rational thinking and that was normal and he shouldn’t blame himself for it. 

“Patton, dear, can you help me with this?” Patton’s grandmother called. She’d made herself busy unpacking, it seemed, during the two boys’ encounter. 

“Oh! Coming, Nana. Logan, I gotta go, talk later? Really good to see you!” 

“Good to see you too,” Logan said, half on autopilot, a smile spreading unbidden across his face. He decided he was glad Patton Evans had moved into this dorm. 

Logan peeked back into his own room. Tía V and Tío J were sitting next to one another on his bed. Tío J had his arm around Tía V’s waist and was showing her something on his phone; she was resting her head on his shoulder and giggling at it. Tío J dropped a kiss on her forehead. 

Logan coughed slightly, and they both looked up at him. 

“How’d it go?” Tío J asked. 

Logan pursed his lips and considered for a second. “Good,” he said.

“I’m glad!” Tío J enthused, beaming at him. “Lunch before we go?”

Logan nodded. Tía V was already digging in the bag she’d packed to pull out their sandwiches. 

The three sat in a circle on the floor. Logan had peanut butter and Crofter’s; Tía V had ham and Swiss cheese; and Tío J had hummus and Swiss cheese. 

“I—” Logan paused, chewed and swallowed. “I love you two. A lot,” he said shyly, gazing at a worn spot on the carpet. He didn’t usually say it first, but it had just sunk in that they would be leaving him here soon, and a wave of affection for them had washed over him. It was important that they knew. 

Tío J wrapped an arm around Logan’s shoulders. “I love you too, kid.” He leaned over and planted an affectionate kiss on top of Logan’s head, then ruffled his hair. “I’ve been lucky to have you around.” 

“Logan.” Tía V put a hand on his forearm. “I am so proud of you, you hear me? You are the bravest boy I know. I love you and I love taking care of you.”

Logan drew a hand over his suddenly damp eyes. “You’re going to make me cry,” he said thickly, half laughing. 

“Crying is okay sometimes,” was all Tía V said, smiling softly. 

Logan closed his eyes, nodding even as he wiped the stray tears away. “I know,” he said. Tía V cried unashamedly and often. 

“Now that we’re all already emotional, we may as well begin our goodbyes,” Tío J suggested, glancing at his watch. Logan followed suit; it was almost one in the afternoon. 

“Joseph…” Tía V swatted at his arm.

“He’s right,” Logan said. “You have your illustrations.” Tía V was making illustrations for a children’s book, and her deadline to finish them was in a few days. Since she’d taken the day off her other job anyway to help Logan move in, the plan was that she’d spend the afternoon making as much progress on the illustrations as possible. 

“You’re more important than any silly illustration,” Tía V protested, but she got to her feet anyway. 

“We’ll see you in two weeks, yes?” Tío J said. 

Logan nodded. “Yes please.” 

Tía V cupped his face in her hands and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I will miss you, little star.”

“I know, Tía. I’ll miss you too.” 

Tía V nodded. “Space fact of the day? Give me one for a bright future.” 

Logan thought for a moment. “A lot of the brightest stars in the night sky are actually double stars or binary stars, so close together that they look like one to us.” 

“I love it. And I love you.” Tía V booped him on the nose and giggled when he made a face. “We’ll see you soon, okay, bookworm?”

Logan nodded. “Okay.” 

After only a couple of hugs more, his aunt and uncle finally made it out the door. Logan watched from the window of his room and waved until they were out of sight. 

He moved over to his desk, where a stack of photos was waiting next to a roll of tape, and began mounting them to the wall. There was a photo from his eighteenth birthday last year, captured by Tío J just as he’d opened the tickets to the local planetarium. Tía V was laughing and Logan’s delight was evident. There was a selfie Tía V had taken with him and Tío J at the women’s march last year. There was a series of photos of the last several Pride parades, Logan wrapped in a trans flag, Tía V in a bi one, and Tío J wearing ally pins. There was a photo of the three of them hugging in the courtroom the day Tía V had finally gotten legal custody of him from his parents, nearly eight months after he’d moved in with her—even though his parents had thrown him out, they hadn’t been eager to relinquish guardianship over him. There was a photo of the three of them curled up on the couch for movie night in matching unicorn onesies. There was the day Tío J had taught him to shave, about six months after he’d started T. There were Christmas and Hanukkah photos and outings at the park. They were all perfect. 

“Hey Logan!” There was a rap on the open doorway. Patton stood there, bouncing on his toes. “Want to come chat? I’d love to catch up!” 

Logan nodded. “That would be amenable,” he said politely, and followed Patton to the common area. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next up - you've probably guessed it - patton!
> 
> (if anyone is currently asking "if logan and remus got each other's contact info, why didn't janus and virgil?" they actually did. virgil didn't want to text a stranger first. and janus didn't want to text someone who'd signed up for pride housing, not when his parents might go through his texts. he figured his roommate would probably be out, and would be expecting janus to also be out. he deleted the message from the school with the roommate information so his parents wouldn't see even that. so they haven't had any contact at all yet.)


	3. Move In Day - Patton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton is so excited to move in and make new friends! He's sure he can make friends with every person in his dorm. Will he? That remains to be seen....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof patton is Difficult for me to write from the pov of! i'm fairly happy with what this chapter does, though, all things considered.
> 
> also, again ty to @pattoncake-and-eyeshadow, this time for giving me a crash course in "what on earth even happens in pokémon go and how do i write a conversation about it?" bc i am a clueless human who was not allowed to play video/mobile/etc games as a kid oops.

“G’morning, Nana,” Patton called, rapping at his grandmother’s door. “Breakfast is ready.” 

Nana emerged soon after, wrapped in her fluffy pink bathrobe. “Aren’t you just a sweetheart?” she said, patting his cheek as he set a plate in front of her. 

“I do my best.” Patton smiled at her. “Katy will be here soon, right?” 

“She’s arriving this evening,” Nana confirmed. 

Patton nodded. His older cousin was starting a new job close to Nana’s house, and had been more than happy to move in when Nana offered (and Patton, privately, asked). Patton loved Nana, and knew she was a capable person—she’d raised him for six months out of the year the last fifteen years, after all—but she was approaching eighty, and leaving her to live all alone with only one phone in the house, and that a landline, just didn’t sit right with him. He’d tried to convince her to get a cellphone, but she simply would not have it. It wasn’t that it was too difficult—no, Nana had a moral objection. “Planned obsolescence is of the devil, Patton dear,” she’d say sweetly, and that was always the end of it because Patton had a very hard time coming up with a counterargument to that. 

Patton and Nana had finished packing up Patton’s belongings the night before; it had been a project that took up the better part of a week’s free time since they kept putting it off or getting distracted. But happily, the only thing left to do today was pack up Patton’s frog tank. They’d spent some time deliberating on this. Nana had offered to take care of them for him, but Patton had gotten emotional at the idea of going a whole three months without seeing his “tiny green babies.” Then there had been the question of if frogs were even _allowed_ in the dorms. After a lot of head-scratching, Patton had concluded that the rules very likely did not _intend_ for him to possess a tank full of frogs, but did not explicitly say the 10 gallon maximum tank that was the only exception to the no-pets rule could _not_ contain frogs. Amphibians were _almost_ the same as fish, anyway.

So Patton was driving the old van because Nana said he needed more practice, and for the sake of the frogs, Nana was sitting in the backseat of the car with the tank securely in her lap, covered in a towel. Patton wasn’t sure if the towel would help, but it seemed appropriate.

The drive was an hour or so—a little longer with traffic, but the two had plenty of idle chatter to make up for it. Patton couldn’t hold back a little squeak of excitement as he drove past the big fancy sign at the entrance to campus, and Nana chuckled. 

It was quite busy now, but there was still space to pull up to the curb near the dormitories. A couple of volunteers had wheeled a pair of carts towards them before Patton even fully finished parking. Nana carefully settled the tank on the seat beside her before climbing out of the van. 

Soon two carts were loaded up and the tank was carefully placed on top in the emptier one. Patton pushed that cart, one of the volunteers took the other, and Nana walked along next to Patton. He stopped at the table to check in and get his key from the friendly RA, then followed the volunteer to the elevator. 

“I like your hair, ma’am,” the volunteer girl said to Nana, sounding a little shy. Nana’s gray-almost-white dreadlocks, normally falling a little past her shoulders, were tied back into a ponytail.

“Why, thank you,” Nana said, giving the girl a pleased smile. 

A little emboldened, the girl added “It looks kind of like the queen’s hair from _Black Panther,_ you know?” She glanced at Patton, probably guessing Nana might not have seen the movie.

However, Nana and Patton had quite a collection of movies for movie nights, and _Black Panther_ was one of their favorites. “No,” Nana said to the girl, her smile widening a little. “I would say the Queen Mother Ramonda’s hair looks like mine, actually.” 

“Oh my gosh, you’re totally right!” the girl agreed with a delighted laugh, clearly thrilled that Nana had known what she was talking about. 

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. “Do you all need anymore help?” the girl asked.

“We’ll be fine, thank you,” Nana said, and the girl departed as Patton looked around for room 205. 

Patton’s door had an absolutely adorable pair of sea critters on it: a red starfish and a light blue crab. The crab had his name on it, and beneath it it said “From the warriors’ town.” 

Patton pulled out his phone and shot off a text to “Roman (roommate!!!!!)”— _We have the cutest decorations on our door!!! Want to see, or surprise?_

Almost instantly he got a response: _Omg! Show!!!!!!_

Patton snapped a picture and sent it. 

The next response was a string of emojis—star eyes, heart eyes, and every heart emoji, in a beautiful, rainbow-colored keysmash. 

_THOSE ARE SO CUUUUUUTEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!_

Patton grinned and responded _I know right? Going to unpack now, see you soon!_

“Ready?” Nana asked with a single quirked eyebrow when Patton looked up from his phone. 

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I just knew Roman would be super excited by this.” 

“You’ve barely known the boy for a week and only over text.”

“But I feel like we already know each other so well! Anyway, I was right, he did like it.” 

Nana chuckled. “Glad to know you’ve found someone else as bubbly as you. Are you ready to unlock the door now?” 

“Sorry,” Patton said again, grinning, and pulled out the key. 

Many of his things unpacked quickly—he’d packed clothes on the hangers, so they could go straight into the closet (he got a giggle out of that one); he’d left all the school supplies in the packaging; and he’d left a lot of his old games at home. 

“Hey Nana?” Patton bit his lip to hold his laughter in.

“Yes, Patty?” 

“Why doesn’t the sun need to go to college?”

“Oh, dear.” She sighed, but she was smiling. “Why?” 

“It’s already got like 28 million degrees!” Patton burst into giggles. 

“Oh, _dear,”_ was all Nana repeated, shaking her head fondly. 

A minute later, a door creaked and footsteps sounded. Patton looked up and saw a Latino boy in a NASA t-shirt, standing in the hall outside. 

The boy waved awkwardly. “Hi,” he said, sounding rather uncertain of himself. Something seemed familiar about him, though Patton couldn’t place it. 

New friends were always good, so Patton waved back. “Hello!” He walked over to the doorway. 

The boy didn’t seem reassured by Patton’s friendly response, though, eyes widening. After an odd silence, he said, all rushed in one breath, “You’re moving in, too?” 

“Yep!” Patton responded. A spectacular pun hit him. “I can say…” He pointed to the crab on the door. “I’m feeling anything but crabby!” He couldn’t help but laugh at his own joke. Puns were just too much fun. 

The boy looked incredibly pained, but nodded slowly. “Nice pun,” he said, voice a little strained like it was hard to say that. All in all, a successful reaction. That pained look really _was_ familiar, though, Patton was sure of it. Not just because it was a common reaction to his puns, either.

“Hold on, didn’t we go to Wallerton together?” he asked as it started to come to him. 

There was no mistaking the emotion that flashed across the boy’s face: panic. Well, _that_ was weird. “I—” he began, then stopped. 

_Oh._ Patton _did_ remember, now. No wonder it had taken so long to figure out what was so familiar about the boy; he’d changed a lot. The girl who’d sat in front of Patton in 7th grade English evidently hadn’t been a girl. And he didn’t seem to want to talk about it. 

Well, that was perfectly alright; it was none of Patton’s business, anyway. He cast about quickly for a good way to put the poor guy at ease. “I’ve totally forgotten your name, I’m so sorry! I’m Patton if you don’t remember! We sat by each other in English.” 

The boy only blinked at him. 

“You always had the smartest things to say!” Patton added. It was true—Patton remembered often being impressed after the kid in front of him had raised his hand. “You were on a whole different level from everyone else!” 

The boy finally pulled himself together. “That’s an overexaggeration,” he said, and goodness did Patton want to laugh, because that was _perfectly_ in character, if his memory served at all. “There were plenty of people who were more than proficient in the class,” the boy continued. “I’m—I’m Logan.” 

“Logan, right!” Patton nodded. “That was definitely my bad,” he reassured Logan with a smile. “Good to see you again, dude!” 

Logan didn’t quite smile, but Patton could tell he was much more relaxed than he’d been a minute ago. 

“Patton, dear, can you help me with this?” Nana called. 

Patton glanced over. She was pointing at the frog tank, sitting on top of the second cart; evidently the first one was empty. 

“Oh! Coming, Nana. Logan, I gotta go, talk later? Really good to see you!” 

Logan nodded, an actual smile slowly spreading across his face. “Good to see you, too,” he responded, and left, probably headed back to his own room. 

After Nana and Patton finished unpacking and getting the frogs situated, they took the van to a little burger place just off campus for lunch. Then Patton dropped Nana off at the bus stop, gave her hugs and kisses, and drove back to campus; he’d gotten a permit to have a car on campus as a freshman because of his peanut allergy. He couldn’t eat at several of the food places on campus, so he was exempt from buying a meal plan, and was allowed a car for transportation to get himself to grocery stores. Katy had a newer, nicer car anyway, so it wouldn’t be an issue for Nana, and she’d made it clear that she was happy with this arrangement. 

When Patton returned to the second floor of the building his room was in, he could see Logan’s door was open. He went over and knocked on the door frame. “Hey Logan, want to come chat? I’d love to catch up!” 

Logan, who was poring over something on his desk, looked up. “That would be amenable,” he said, and followed Patton out to the common area. 

“So, what are you majoring in?” Patton asked, figuring that was a good place to start. He plopped himself into a chair and swung his legs over the arm.

Logan sat on the arm of another chair with his feet on the seat and adjusted his glasses. “Social Sciences,” he said. “I haven’t picked what concentration yet—possibly sociology. I, um”—he adjusted his glasses again—“I also want to minor in Biology, because science fascinates me, and Astronomy, because… I think space is neat.” He glanced away, his voice getting quieter as he ended the sentence in a rush.

“That’s awesome!” Patton beamed at him. “Gosh, you always were so smart, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised by how cool all of those sound.” 

Logan, who had been staring at his hands in his lap as he fidgeted with them, looked up and gave Patton a slight smile. Maybe “smile” was an exaggeration, but it was definitely a positive look. “Thanks. What about you?” 

“Oh, I’m in Pre-Law!” Patton said. “If I were going to pick a minor, I think it’d be Child Development, but I’m not going to worry about that this year.” 

“Pre-Law?” Logan sounded a little surprised. 

Patton nodded. “I want to help make things a little more fair for folks who usually get screwed over by the system.” 

“That’s… quite admirable of you,” Logan said, then: “Sorry I acted like it was an odd choice. That was stupid of me.” 

Patton beamed at him. “No biggie— _Hey! We have the same glasses!”_

Logan blinked at him, hand frozen on the side of his frames where he had gone to adjust them yet again. “...Yes,” he acknowledged after a moment. 

“That’s so cool!” Patton enthused. 

The two boys were interrupted by the noise of a door opening. They both looked over—the door across the hall from both of their own had opened. A boy in a yellow turtleneck with a scar on the left side of his face stepped out. 

The boy raised an eyebrow at the two of them. “Hello,” he said in a Southern drawl, sounding a little wary. 

“Hi!” Patton said, waving and smiling. 

“Greetings,” Logan said more composedly. 

“What’s your name?” Patton added. 

The boy took a few more steps forward and grabbed one of the chairs. He sat, hiked up one leg so his heel balanced on the edge of the chair, wrapped his arms around the leg, and rested his chin on his knee. “Janus,” he said, examining the both of them in a way that made Patton feel a little bit like he was under a microscope. 

“I’m Patton!” Patton matched Janus’s gaze curiously. 

“I’m Logan. Nice to meet you.” Logan adjusted his glasses _again,_ and Patton kind of wanted to give the poor boy a fidget spinner or something. 

“Pleasure,” Janus said. 

“What’s your major?” Patton asked, still looking at Janus. “I’m Pre-Law and Logan is Social Sciences!” Janus’s jacket and jeans were both made of perfectly matched black denim, and it made the little rainbow pin with he/him pronouns pop. His blond hair peeked out from under a gray beanie that looked incredibly soft, and his eyes were green. On his left cheek, he had a large scar, or maybe two scars—part of it sat just under his eye in a rounded red shape, and part was a raised line extending a couple of inches from the side of his mouth. It looked like maybe a burn scar, but Patton wasn’t sure—he didn’t know all that much about scars.

“Philosophy,” Janus said. He sat very still, hands loosely clasped around his ankle, only his eyes moving as he looked at the other two boys. “Where are you from?” 

“I’m a local!” Patton said.

“I am as well.” Logan drummed his fingers on his thigh. 

“We just found out we went to middle school together!” Patton added brightly. 

“Adorable,” Janus said. His tone was dry, but not quite enough to be definitely sarcastic, so Patton took it at face value. 

“I know, right? How about you, where are you from?” Patton asked. 

“Louisiana. Baton Rouge,” Janus said. 

Patton was getting just a tiny bit annoyed at how much of the conversation he was carrying. Logan seemed pretty introverted, and Janus kept answering questions and then being quiet. But maybe they just needed some time to warm up. “Oh, that’s cool! Do you like it there?”

“No,” Janus said tonelessly, face blank. 

“Oh.” Patton floundered for a minute. “What are your hobbies? Both of you,” he added, seeing the look of uncertainty on Logan’s face.

“Lying,” Janus deadpanned. 

Patton blinked at him. “...Oh?” 

Janus made a face, the most movement Patton had seen from him since he sat down. “No. Sorry. That was a joke.” He looked frustrated with himself, but he didn’t explain any further.

“Oh,” Patton said again. He could feel his face wrinkling in confusion.

“I’m, uh,” Janus shifted slightly, seeming uncomfortable, “I like puzzle games.” 

Logan perked up noticeably. “Me too!” 

Janus’s lips twitched upward slightly. “I have a 3000 game streak in my sudoku app.” 

“Wow!” Patton breathed.

Logan genuinely smiled for the first time in the whole conversation. “My Tía and I do crosswords together in the evenings.” 

Patton bounced slightly, pleased that the conversation seemed to be picking up a little. “Do either of you play Pokémon Go?” 

Logan nodded vigorously. 

“Only a little.” Janus said. “Not recently.” 

“Which teams are you on?” Patton asked. 

“I’m on Team Mystic,” Logan said. “But not because it’s the most popular one. I genuinely find the team values compelling and interesting, and in line with my own.” 

Janus smirked slightly. “Oh, I completely understand where you’re coming from. I’m Instinct. It’s interesting _and_ rare.”

Logan huffed slightly, looking disgruntled. Janus’s smirk widened by a mere degree. 

“I’m on Team Mystic, too!” Patton interjected quickly. “Blue is just such a great color, you know?” 

“I suppose.” Janus sounded uninterested.

“It _is_ a nice color,” Logan said, a bit of a challenge in his voice.

Janus’s lips pursed ever so slightly. “Overrated, if you ask me.” 

“Logically speaking, if the majority of the population chooses it as a favorite color, there’s likely something behind that,” Logan said. He adjusted his glasses. 

“Herd mentality?” Janus suggested. Patton couldn’t be quite sure, but there seemed to be a mischievous glint in his eye. 

Logan huffed. “Can you cite a source for that?” 

“Guys,” Patton interrupted hastily, “they’re just colors! It’s alright!”

“Of course,” Janus said. He shrugged one shoulder. “All in good fun, I’m sure.” 

Logan nodded. He looked like he was about to say something, but there was a noise that caught all three boys’ attention. 

Another door was opening, just like Janus’s had a little while ago. This one, however, bore a little plaque labeled “Resident Advisor,” with big Steven Universe-style paper letters above it spelling out “Thomas!” and a little chart below saying “Thomas is…” A rainbow-shaped magnet sat on top of “asleep.” 

“Oh my goodness gracious, residents! What is up, everybody?” A boy with brown hair and eyes who looked a little older than any of the three present, wearing a set of Steven Universe pajamas, stepped out and waved, looking absolutely delighted. “I’m Thomas, pronouns he/him/his!” 

“Hello! I’m Patton, he/him/his.” Thomas’s delight was infectious; Patton grinned back, bouncing a little in his seat. 

Logan adjusted his glasses. “Logan, he/him. Nice to meet you.” 

Janus lifted one hand to give Thomas a small wave. “My name is Janus. Pronouns he/him/his.” 

“Gosh, I am so excited! I hope move-in has been treating you all well so far?” 

Patton nodded. “It was great! Everyone has been so nice.” 

“Same,” Janus agreed.

“Mine has also been quite acceptable,” Logan added. 

Thomas nodded. “Glad to hear that. Listen, I am beyond thrilled to meet you all, and I definitely want to get to know each of you really soon, but right now I’ve got to do some important RA things like brushing my teeth.” He gestured with the toothbrush and toothpaste in his hands. “Cool?”

Patton couldn’t help but laugh. The guy had a great sense of humor! “Cool as an ice cube!” he said. It had been at least ten minutes since he’d made a pun, and that simply wouldn’t do.

“Oh!” Thomas pointed at Patton with a grin. “I like that. Fantastic. Thanks very much, you all, give me just a few minutes.” 

“He seems cheery,” Janus commented once Thomas had vanished into the bathroom. “Not much of a morning person, though.” 

Patton glanced at his watch. Janus was right; it was nearly 1:45 in the afternoon. “I like him so much already!” Patton stretched his arms wide in the air. “Thiiiiiis much!” 

Logan was clearly holding back a smile in reaction to Patton’s comment. “He certainly seems excited about his job.” 

Before long, Thomas rejoined them, now dressed in a blue t-shirt, jeans, and a brown leather jacket, with a lanyard in the school colors around his neck that had the words “Resident Advisor” running along it over and over. “Hey! Sorry about that. How’s it going?”

“Good!” Patton declared enthusiastically. “How about you?”

“I mean, I’ve only been awake for a little while, but my day is going fine so far!” Thomas turned to Logan and Janus. “And you?”

“I am well, thank you,” Logan said politely. 

Janus nodded. “My day’s been going well.” 

“Awesome!” Thomas said. “Mind if I join you all here and take a seat?” 

The trio made assenting noises, and Thomas plopped himself criss-cross onto the floor. 

Over the next twenty minutes, Patton learned several things about Thomas. He was a junior; he was studying chemical engineering and had a minor in theatre; he was from Florida; he liked Patton’s puns wholeheartedly; this was his first year as an RA; he liked cartoons just as much as Patton did; and his favorite show right now was Parks & Rec. Patton also learned a few new things about Logan and Janus—Logan liked Big Hero 6 and rap, and he _really_ liked outer space, and he knew a _lot_ about it, too! Janus didn’t watch a lot of TV, but he liked philosophy—which made sense—and Thomas managed to ask just the right questions to get Janus to light up and go on a ramble about some philosopher from the 19th century, eyes alight and hands punctuating his sentences with gestures. He looked much happier and more alive than he had at any other point in the conversation. 

“So what questions do you all have about campus life?” Thomas asked, hands clasped on top of his knees, when the conversation came to a natural lull. 

“How long does it typically take to walk to class buildings from the dorms? A range is fine,” Logan said immediately, leaning slightly towards Thomas, fingers drumming very fast on the arm of his chair. 

“Oh, I’d say… usually about seven minutes on average? Some of the farther buildings up to fifteen on a slow day, and there’s one building that’s really close and takes me about five. But most of the things around the hub of campus are about seven minutes from here.” 

“How do you declare a minor?” Logan asked with barely a pause—he did give a little nod of thanks, though. 

“Check department websites for specific information, but typically you schedule an appointment with a designated person and they give you a form to fill out.” 

Logan nodded again. “Do you know anyone who’s done three minors?” 

“Only one person, and, um, you should not try to do that, please. Test your limits on a regular courseload first.” Thomas looked slightly alarmed. 

Logan pursed his lips. “That does sound like rational advice.” 

“I mean, I would hope so.” The concern hadn’t left Thomas’s eyes, but he turned to Janus and Logan. “Do you two have any questions?” 

“Where’s the bookstore?” Janus asked. 

“Ooh! Good one.” Thomas finger gunned at him. “Head uphill to the corner, cross the street, then go down the steps. It’s on the left of the plaza. Do you have textbooks to pick up?”

Janus nodded. “My parents preordered them for pickup here.” 

“I’ve got some textbooks to pick up, too!” Patton said.

“I as well,” Logan added. “Do you want to all walk together?” 

“Sure!” Patton agreed. “Right now?”

Janus shrugged. “Why not?” he said, seemingly in answer to both questions.

“Do you want to come with us, Thomas?” Patton asked. 

“I’d love to, buddy! Unfortunately, I’m going to have a shift at the desk downstairs checking people in and all that pretty soon, and I need to make myself some food first, so I’m going to have to pass. I’ll see you all this evening for sure, though, we have a mandatory meeting right here at 8!”

Patton did remember getting an email this morning about that; he’d forgotten in all the excitement of moving in.

“Also, my phone number is on the ‘meet your RA’ sign,” Thomas added. “Please make sure you all add me to your contacts in case you need me!” 

“Okay, sounds good!” Patton agreed. “It was awesome to meet you!” 

“You too, buddy! I’m happy I got to meet all three of you. See you soon! Be safe, have fun, all that good stuff.” Thomas got to his feet. “Ohhhh, my leg is asleep, I regret sitting like that,” he mumbled, shaking his leg out and balancing awkwardly on one foot. “I’m okay, you all. Peace out!” 

“Bye,” the three boys chorused, more or less in unison, and headed down the stairs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> absolutely none of these boys know how to sit on chairs bc they are all gay. what did u expect.
> 
> next up: surprise, it’s not any of the sides—it's remy! he's in this story too!


	4. Move In Day - Remy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remy is looking forward to being as gay as possible at college, but he may have a different idea of what that looks like than what he actually wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just for clarity, the university they are all attending is made up! it’s vaguely based on my own, because that’s the university i’m best acquainted with, but only vaguely, and it's set in a whole different location.

Remy opened his eyes. The rolling fields outside his train window had given way to suburbs while he was asleep, and those seemed to be on the verge of giving way to the city. He checked the time—1pm, so he was probably getting close. 

“Hey, can you watch my stuff for me?” he asked the woman in the opposite row from him. After receiving a nod, Remy extricated himself from the seat and wandered down the train to the food car, where he ordered an iced coffee. Prize in hand, he returned to his seat, thanking the woman with a nod. 

Remy opened Snapchat and swiped through until he found a nice filter, then began posing; the lighting just now actually wasn’t half bad. He amused himself with this for perhaps a solid five minutes before finally snapping a photo. Then composing a caption took some time, and choosing just the right stickers to complete the piece. Finally, he gave the snap a once-over, satisfied, and hit post. Then he repeated the process, but on his Instagram story, with a different filter, pose, caption, and stickers.

Remy scrolled through his home feed, sipping his coffee, dispensing likes with discretion. 

“Approaching Los Angeles Union Station, please gather your belongings,” the conductor’s voice on the intercom announced. Remy closed Instagram and opened Uber. After requesting one, he pocketed his phone, unplugged his charger, and stowed it in his messenger bag. He took down his singular suitcase from the overhead rack, and joined the passengers lining up in the aisle between seats. 

“Union Station, now arriving,” the intercom announced, and the train slowly pulled to a stop. 

Remy’s Uber driver was a chatty man probably in his mid-twenties. 

“Heading to Galilei University, huh? Student?” the guy asked. 

“Uh-huh.” Remy took a long sip of his coffee. 

“Are you a freshman, then?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Your folks have your belongings, or something? You don’t exactly look like you’re moving in.” 

“Shipped them up ahead of time, actually. The school has a program for out of state freshmen, they’ll move your things in for you for a fee.” 

“That sounds nice. You excited?” 

“Sure,” Remy said with a shrug. “Nice to be back in California. I grew up in San Diego.” 

“Oh?” 

“Yeah. Moved to Las Vegas a few years back. It’s alright, but it could really use more beaches.” 

The driver chuckled a little. He kept up the conversation for another half hour or so, before finally announcing, “Here we are, where do you want to be dropped off?”

“Anywhere’s fine. Just pull over. Thanks.” Remy took his suitcase and set off up the sidewalk, giving the driver 5 stars. 

It took him a few minutes to figure out which redbrick building was the correct one, but he found it eventually. The check in table had two figures sitting at it—a girl with braided hair and a guy, who was sitting  _ on _ the table instead of in the second, empty, chair behind it, and was laughing with the girl about something. The dude hopped off when he noticed Remy approaching. 

“Hey!” the girl greeted. “Name?” 

“Remington Clemens-Hardinge.” 

“Perfect. Thomas, can you get his key?” 

The other guy, who was evidently called Thomas, pursed his lips a little. Whatever that was in reaction to, he didn’t comment, looking through the box of envelopes on the table and pulling one out. 

“Do you have anyone helping you move in?” the girl asked, looking around for the nonexistent family members she inquired after, as Remy accepted the key. 

“Nope.” Remy popped the “p.” “It’s just me, myself, and I.” 

“Oh, well, I’m your RA—need any help unpacking?” Thomas said. He glanced at the other RA. “My shift here doesn’t officially start for another half hour.” 

“Sure, why not?” Remy took another slurp of the coffee. “Stuff’s already in my room.”

“Awesome!” Thomas held up his hand. 

Remy stared at it for an awkwardly long moment, before realizing it was meant to be a high five. “Oh, shit. Sorry. Uh.” He stuck his phone in his pocket to free a hand and reached over to high five Thomas back.

“Let’s go!” Thomas took off toward the building. 

Remy strolled along in his wake, sipping at the coffee. 

“So, do you go by Remington, or—?” Thomas asked.

“Nah, call me Remy.”

“Remy! Awesome. I’m Thomas, which I guess you already knew. Pronouns he/him/his.” 

“Oh, uh, same,” Remy said, after Thomas looked at him expectantly. “So, what’s the gay scene like here?” 

“Hm, I’d say the queer community on campus isn’t huge, but we do tend to interact with one another a lot, and most of us know most of each other,” Thomas said after a moment of consideration. “There’s a Pride Center in the Campus Hub, and they offer some programming, as well. It’s thanks to them we have this dorm community, actually—they pushed Housing for it, and they agreed to a pilot test of fifteen students this year! That’s you and three other rooms, and me, on the second floor—plus another four rooms on the third floor, and another RA named Valerie. We weren’t able to talk them into gender-neutral rooms yet, but hopefully next year they’ll be open to expanding and improving.” 

“Sweet,” Remy commented as they reached the second-floor landing of the staircase. Thomas led the way across the common area to room 203. A black paper dolphin sat squarely in the middle of the door, labeled “Remington - Town of the Raven.” 

“Are there any gay frats? Or gay-friendly ones?” Remy asked as he unlocked the door. 

“Not that I know of,” Thomas said carefully. “Several of the local chapters have… not fantastic reputations, to be honest. If you want to rush, I’d try and do some research.” 

“Thanks for the tip. How about the dating pool?” 

Thomas shrugged. “I’m not super involved in that scene right now, but like I said—the on-campus community isn’t huge. I’m sure there are people in the area who don’t attend the university, though. We are pretty close to downtown, after all.” 

Remy nodded, making a mental note to look into Grindr. 

“Alright, how shall we unpack all this?” Thomas asked, surveying the boxes stacked on the floor. “You don’t have a roommate, so you can use the space however you want.” 

As they unpacked, Thomas kept the small talk going, drawing out things like Remy’s major (computer science), his favorite season (autumn), what he wanted to do with his degree (he had no idea), what his family was like (distant, which made Thomas make a sad face, so Remy changed the subject as fast as possible, because bottling emotions was his favorite coping method and he was  _ not _ interested in disturbing that shit right now, thanks), and “one goal for his first quarter” (to work at Starbucks). Remy even asked a few questions of Thomas in return. It was, quite possibly, the most wholesome conversation Remy had had all week. Maybe longer. It was—nice. Maybe. Kind of weird, though. 

When Thomas excused himself to go start his shift at the check in desk, Remy stood for a good moment or two in the middle of the room, staring at the door, knowing his face must look as confused as he felt. Emotional connection? People interested in getting to know him just for the hell of it? He was wryly aware that it was probably not a good sign that he felt as gobsmacked by this as he did. All the same, this was… different than he’d expected when he’d signed up for the Pride housing. He didn’t know what to make of it.

This was a frankly uncomfortable amount of self-reflection for him, though. “Damn,” he said aloud, the vocalization serving as an emphatic slamming of the lid on his metaphorical box of emotions, before shutting the door and then opening the window. Most of his stuff was unpacked, so he sat in the deep windowsill with his laptop balanced on his knees. 

He switched back and forth between actually working on the website he was coding for himself and checking Instagram on his phone. It was distracting, and distraction was soothing. 

Laughing voices floated in through the open window, and Remy glanced down. Three boys were walking towards the building, from the opposite side as he’d checked in on, their arms full of books. Two of them had what looked like Starbucks. Fantastic! He’d finished his iced coffee at least fifteen minutes ago and was just about starting to want something new to sip on. He stood and plugged his computer in at the desk, then returned to shut the window.

“You two go on without me, I want to call my sister,” one of the boys was saying, sitting down on a bench just outside the building and putting his stack of books beside him. 

Remy pushed the window down and latched it, then grabbed his messenger bag, checked his wallet was still inside, and headed down the stairs, passing the other two boys on the way. He waved at Thomas and headed around the building. 

“—Juno, I’m so goddamn  _ stupid,” _ the boy on the bench was saying to his phone. “This kid in the dorm asked what my hobbies were and I said  _ lying— _ oh my god, stop laughing! This is your fault! You’re the one who started using humor to cope with being closeted and I picked it up from you, that’s how it’s your fault. Now I went and told some person my hobby is lying to my parents, how am I supposed to explain that?” 

The boy’s voice faded out of earshot as Remy continued past him to the sidewalk and further uphill. Sure enough, he soon located the plaza at the base of the Campus Hub, and a Starbucks sign hung from one of the buildings circling the plaza. 

_ “Bless,” _ Remy said fervently to the empty air, then headed inside, inhaling deeply as he walked through the door. There was even a little sign in the corner which read, “Hiring friendly people.” 

“One trenti white mocha latte with a triple shot of espresso and a shot and a half of gingerbread syrup, iced, half ice, soy milk, no whip, caramel drizzle,” he rattled off. “For Remy. Perf, thanks love.” His mood, earlier contemplative, was rising already. This move in may not have been quite what he expected, but the year still seemed to be off to a promising start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow look at this emotionally constipated little bundle of sass. let’s hit him with the powers of love and friendship. he’ll never see it coming. 
> 
> Next up: creativitwins, parts 1 & 2! stay tuned!


	5. Move In Day - Roman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For once, it looks like one of Roman’s daydreams will actually come true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, finally updating again! The next update should be a lot quicker; there was one specific part of this chapter that gave me a bunch of writers' block, but hopefully that's over now. 
> 
> FYI, Remus uses all pronouns! Each chapter will, depending on the POV character, use the pronouns that that character uses for Remus. Roman chooses to cycle through every pronoun he knows as often as possible, because he’s Extra like that.

_“Mum,_ Remus won’t give me the goldfish crackers!”

“People who play _three_ Marina and the Diamonds songs _in a row_ don’t _deserve_ goldfish crackers,” Remus insisted, dangling the crackers out the car window and holding a furiously flailing Roman off with their other hand.

Their two mothers shared a Look, before Mum in the passenger seat turned around and said in her British accent: “You two have been fighting for the last two songs, can you really not settle this yourselves? Roman, play a different artist; Remus, share the crackers. You’re both acting like babies.” 

Roman huffed, settled back into his own seat, and pulled out his phone, switching the music blaring out of the car speakers to a Dorian Electra album.

“I win!” Remus cackled and threw the crackers; the bag hit Roman in the face. 

“Ow! _Mum, make her stop!”_

 _“Boys—_ I mean, _kids,”_ Mama in the driver’s seat said, her own accent a strong Midwestern one, “I _will_ drive this car to Ikea and lose you in the aisles.” 

_“Mama!”_ they protested in perfect unison. 

Both their mothers chuckled. 

“Do you want to trade?” Mum asked. 

“What?” Roman said.

“Give Remus a turn picking music, and you get to hold the snack bag?” 

“No, he’ll just—” Roman began.

“Then calm down and act like the adults you are supposed to be. It’s been six hours, of course everyone is getting crabby. Just a little farther to go.” 

Roman sighed and ran his hand through his hair, pouting a little. He munched absentmindedly at the goldfish, opening and closing apps on his phone at random. He was absolutely _sick_ of being cooped up in the car; they were driving to Los Angeles all the way from their home in Flagstaff, Arizona, and they hadn’t taken a rest stop since lunch, almost three hours ago, which was horrifically unfair. And _now_ he’d gone and taken it out on Remus by deliberately picking a fight and pushing all of hir buttons, which… admittedly _had_ been fantastic for a solid two minutes. But _then_ it had been drastically worse, since now he had guilt and his _own_ gleefully-pushed-by-Remus buttons added into the mix together with the boredom and irritation and restlessness. 

His phone buzzed as a notification from the Messages app showed up at the top of his screen. _“Rem_ 👨🏻🎨🎨🐙🤡💚 _invited you to play 4 In A Row!”_

Roman glanced at Remus out of the corner of his eye; his twin was dumping the end of a bag of barbeque chips into their mouth, looking supremely unconcerned, phone balanced precariously on his knee. 

Roman relaxed just slightly and clicked the notification. He dropped a yellow chip in the center. 

Remus placed a red chip above it, so Roman made his next move in the empty space to the right; Remus then went one space further and blocked the row of yellow chips Roman had just begun, so Roman started a yellow column instead. 

_Sorry,_ he texted while waiting for Remus to move. 

Remus dropped a red chip in an entirely different part of the board. As Roman added a third yellow chip onto his column, he felt the buzz of an incoming message back in the chat thread. He confirmed his move and clicked back to the thread. 

_Me too,_ Remus had responded. 

❤️, Roman sent.

Remus had dropped a chip on top of Roman’s row of three, blocking it; Roman picked an empty column on the board for his next move as, sitting beside him, Remus giggled. 

“Oh, no,” Roman said, sending the game back to Remus and going to look at whatever they’d responded with. 

✂️💔😵🧟♂️

Evidently, Remus had taken the heart and told a little story with it.

“Gross,” Roman said, lightly shoving at Remus’s shoulder as his twin dissolved into gleeful laughter. But it was unmistakably a story prompt, and thus a pretty solid olive branch—telling a story together was their favorite game and had become the easiest way to make up when they fought. Roman thought for a moment, then said, “Zombie man set out on a quest to find the enchantress who had cut his heart in half and make her repair it.”

“Along the way he bit everything, animals, people, plants, dirt, everything! And it zombified all of it,” Remus responded almost instantly. “Check your phone.”

As Roman added another yellow chip to the board, he continued, “The enchantress laughed in his face and revealed that only true love’s kiss could save him from his zombie state! So he sought out the beautiful… princess he’d been engaged to and begged for a kiss.” 

Remus grinned wide. “The princess thought that the zombie thing and all the rotting flesh was honestly kind of hot—”

“Oh my _god,”_ Roman said, opening the 4 In A Row board again to make another move.

“Remus Kingsley, that is _disgusting,”_ Mum piped up from the front seat, sounding both amused and horrified.

Remus continued through faer own laughter. “—so, she agreed! But as they kissed, he was overcome by an irresistible zombie urge, and he bit her—and _she turned into a zombie as well!”_

“Luckily, all was not lost,” Roman began, “because she wasn’t actually his true love! Realizing this freed him to admit what he’d known deep down for a while—”

“He wasn’t straight!” Remus jumped in, both twins speaking in unison. Roman grinned and held up his hand, and Remus high-fived him. 

“See, he and the princess had told each other ‘I have feelings for you,’ and they did,” Remus went on. “It was just that—”

“The feeling was friendship,” Roman caught on and continued, “but neither of them had ever experienced it before!”   
“It was very sad,” Remus agreed. “But now they were zombie friends together.” 

“Together, the princess zombie and the zombie set out to find a new true love for the zombie,” Roman said, gesturing widely with his arms. 

Remus nodded. “They also—oh _fuck_ yes! I win!” 

“Dammit!” Roman groaned, seeing the 4 In A Row _“you lost!”_ notification pop up on his own phone. 

_“Language,_ kids,” Mama said with a drawn out sigh.

“Sorry, Mama,” Roman said. 

“Oops,” Remus said at the same time. “So anyway, they also zombified everything in their path.” 

The two siblings continued back and forth, and the zombie man gained a nonbinary zombie partner who slowly grew to love him over a year’s travel together, but the kiss still did not un-zombify him. This was revealed to be due to the evil sorceress, who had lied and sent the zombie man on a wild goose chase to distract him from the true cure. The cure had been on a time limit, which was now passed, so he would be stuck as a zombie forever. The zombies, and the army of things they had zombified, stormed the enchantress’s castle, where they destroyed her and all her magic in vengeance. 

“And together, they set up a new zombie kingdom,” Roman said. “One where justice—”

“—and body mods—” Remus put in.

“—and peace—”

“—and upcycling—”

“—prevailed. And they lived happily ever after!” Roman clapped his hands once with a grin. He loved getting to the happy ending.

“And then they realized that one of the zombies was a goose. It was a lovely day in the kingdom, and he was a horrible goose—” Remus began.

“We’re almost there, so maybe wrap it up instead of starting a new storyline?” Mum suggested. 

“Aw…” Roman groaned. “Wait, we’re almost there?”

“We got off the freeway ten minutes ago, lovebug,” Mama said. 

“No way!” Roman pressed his palms and face against the window, staring out at the city streets they were driving through. 

“Brobro, want any more snacks?” Remus asked. 

“Huh? Oh, sure. Is there anything with chocolate left?”

“Here.” Remus threw a Snickers bar at his head, then pulled out a bag of Cheetos for xemself. 

Roman munched his Snickers. “Bet I have the better roommate,” he said idly.

“Do not,” Remus responded instantly.

“Do too. Look at this and tell me you don’t see perfect roommate material.” Roman opened his texts with “Patton 😸👨🏾🎓🐶❤️ Evans” and held his phone approximately three inches away from Remus’s eyes. He’d used a standard red heart for now in Patton’s contact; he added hearts to all his contacts, and he took the specific heart emojis he used very seriously. He needed time to gauge Patton’s personality in person before he could properly select a permanent heart emoji.

Remus crossed xir eyes. “Okay, easy. I don’t see perfect roommate material. I see a phone.” 

_“Remus!”_ Roman flung his arms in the air in exasperation and hit the car ceiling. “Ow.” 

“What?” Remus snickered. “I’m telling the truth!” She squinted at the phone. “How come you use so many emojis?”

“Um, because they’re fantastic and amazing and pretty and they express emotions more clearly sometimes, and also they look pretty, and you use at least as many emojis as I do, so.” Roman crossed his arms.

“Yeah, but I use cool emojis. Yours look weird.” Remus shrugged and examined his fingernails. 

“They do not!” Roman snatched his phone back. “They match my _aesthetic,_ you asshole!” 

“Language, Roman,” Mama said patiently. 

“Sorry.” 

Remus grinned. “What can I say, guess you must have a weird ass-thetic.” 

“Oh my god, stop! Mama!” 

Roman could see Mama roll her eyes in the rearview mirror, but she still said, “Remus…”

“Okay, okay.” Remus dipped a finger into the Cheeto dust in the bottom of their bag and licked it off.

“Look, here’s the university!” Mum said brightly.

The U-Haul trailer attached to the back of the Subaru meant that they needed to wait until two spots in a row opened up; volunteers waved them over after a moment. 

“FREEDOM!” Remus screamed at the top of their lungs, jumping as high as fae could into the air as Roman followed her out of the car.

“So, are both of you moving in?” one of the volunteers asked, glancing back and forth between the twins.

“Yep,” Roman said, summoning up a charming grin that he honestly did not feel right now at all, but that wasn’t the poor volunteer’s fault; it was the fault of the seven-hour road trip. 

“You two are the ones who packed the U-Haul with no regard for order, you’re responsible for sorting things as they come out of it,” Mum called. 

“We know, Mum,” Remus said, already ducking into the U-Haul. “RoRo, catch!” 

_“Shit! No!”_ Roman dived to catch the large object Remus had thrown at him; it was only after it was in his arms that he realized it was just his pillow, not something breakable. He straightened up. “That’s not _funny,_ Remus!” 

Remus was standing in the U-Haul, laughing uproariously. “The look—on your _face,”_ ze gasped. 

“Kids,” Mama said. “Can we unpack quickly so I can move the car and we can make room for more people?” 

“Fine,” Remus said, picking up a box and plopping it into the closest cart. “This cart’s mine, Ro.” 

“Alright.” Roman put the pillow into another cart and went to join Remus in the U-Haul. The difference between his boxes and Remus’s seemed obvious to him, but Mum and Mama had both all but thrown their hands up in despair when the twins had packed.

Mama helped push over a couple more carts, then stood watching, clearly ready to help if they needed her; Mum came up beside her and rested her head on Mama’s shoulder. Mama wrapped an arm around her wife, leaned down, and kissed Mum’s cheek.

Remus scowled suddenly; Roman followed their gaze and saw a middle-aged white man getting out of a car in the unloading spot behind them, openly staring at Mum and Mama with clear disgust. However, another volunteer came up to the man, evidently asking questions about his child’s move-in, and took his attention away from Roman’s family.

Roman turned back to Remus. “Racist or homophobic?” he asked, singing the words quietly to the tune of “Gay or European?” from _Legally Blonde._ Mum’s brown skin was darker than Mama’s or the twins’—she’d carried them, but they’d had a white sperm donor who matched as many of Mama’s genetic traits as possible, and most people assumed the twins were white if they met them on their own. 

Remus snorted slightly, clearly still just as frustrated as Roman was. “This man is racist _and_ homophobic,” he responded in the tune of the song anyway. “Come on, let’s unpack so we can move.”

Together, the twins made quick work of unpacking the U-Haul into the carts—two for Remus and three for Roman. Each twin pushed one, as did Mum; Mama went to move the car to a parking lot not as close to the move-in site, and two of the volunteers took the remaining carts. Happily, the family with the man who’d stared at them was leaving in the opposite direction down the sidewalk, clearly towards a different dorm building. 

When they reached the redbrick building they were moving into, the volunteers and Mum went to move the carts upstairs with the elevator while the twins checked in. 

“Hi!” the RA staffing the table said. “Names?” 

“Roman Kingsley.”

“Remus.” 

“Oh, awesome! I’m your RA. My name’s Thomas, he/him/his.” Thomas marked two names right next to each other off the sheet of paper sitting on a clipboard in front of him.

“He/him,” Roman said easily. 

“Any and all,” Remus said, leaning back on the cart she was responsible for. 

Roman automatically reached over and grabbed the corner to stop it rolling backward so his twin wouldn’t collapse on the ground. 

“Awesome!” Thomas repeated. “Let me find your keys...” He sorted through a box of envelopes. “School IDs can be picked up at the table outside the bookstore, if you haven’t got them yet. Let me know if you need anything, otherwise I’ll see you this evening at 8pm!” He plucked out two envelopes. “Roman… and Remus.” He scrutinized each of their faces as he said the names and handed them each an envelope. “Perfect. Okay, have a great move in!” 

“Thanks, Tommy boy!” Remus shoved off with his feet, yanking the cart out of Roman’s grasp, and went bumping down the slight incline towards the sidewalk outside the building.

 _“Remus!”_ Roman dove after his sibling, grabbing the edge of the cart once again and dragging it to a halt.

“Aw, man,” Remus griped, but they got to xir feet. 

Thomas was very clearly trying not to react; Roman was pretty sure an applicable phrase would be “dying inside.” Possibly in multiple interpretations. 

Roman went back for his own cart and followed Remus into the building, prompting a scuffle for the elevator. Remus got in first, but Roman shoved his cart halfway in so the door couldn’t close—he was _almost_ certain there was just barely enough room for two. 

“Bro, you sure?” Remus said, raising an eyebrow, but he scooted his cart all the way to the wall to make room. 

Roman and his cart just barely squeezed in. He leaned awkwardly across the carts to reach the button to take them to the second floor. 

“Race to the rooms?” Remus suggested as the elevator doors slid shut.

“No, we have to get the carts _out_ first and that’s just going to—”

“Sounds like quitter talk to me, can’t believe I’m already winning—”

“I hate you,” Roman said petulantly, kicking at his cart. 

“Hey, you have the head start.” Remus grinned at him.

“Yeah, but I have to get out backwards.” 

“Quitter!” Remus singsonged.

“I am _not_ —ugh!” The elevator beeped and the doors began to open. Roman tugged frantically at the cart. “Scuse me, coming through!” he called over his shoulder as it began to roll out of the elevator. He scanned the room for door 205 and _pulled_ with all his might as soon as he spotted it, not stopping until he backed all the way into the door. “I _win!”_ he shouted, just as Remus careened into the next door over.

Roman and Remus stared at each other, panting, for a beat, then both burst out laughing.

“Roman?” said an unfamiliar voice. Roman looked up; the speaker, a bespectacled Black boy with round cheeks speckled with acne and hair done in little twists, was unmistakably—

“Patton! Oh my god, _hi!”_ Roman cried in delight. He began disentangling himself from where he was wedged between the cart and the door and crossed the room to Patton. “Hugs? Are you a hugging person?” he asked.

“Um, _yes,”_ Patton said, opening his arms. 

Roman considered himself something of a hug connoisseur—he made a point of getting at least five hugs a day. Mum’s hugs were long, tender, and frequent. Mama’s were less frequent, but no less affectionate, and usually came with a kiss on the top of the head—Mama was _tall,_ and she still had a good three inches on both twins. Remus’s hugs came in two forms: the kind where Roman took them by surprise with a nice hug, usually from behind, and xe fought him off; and the kind where she tackled Roman and knocked him into the nearest piece of furniture and squeezed the breath out of his lungs. Both types were rough, but Roman enjoyed them most of the time regardless. Roman also had a comprehensive ranking of the hugs his friends at high school gave, taking into account length, cuddliness, instigation rate, and timing. The only person who had seen this list was Remus, and while they made the occasional, idle threat to reveal it, Roman knew it was safe with xem. The hug he now exchanged with Patton was quick, introductory perhaps, but even with this brief sample, he could tell Patton was an excellent hugger—warm and soft.

“Gross, affection,” Remus commented. 

Roman flipped him off. 

“I already unpacked all my stuff,” Patton said, before eagerly proceeding: “Do you want to see my frogs?” 

_“Do I?_ Patton, _please_ bestow upon me the honor of introducing me to your fabulous froggy companions!” Roman enthused. 

“Roman, you need to—” Mum began.

“Just for a minute, Mum! It’s inside the room anyway.” Roman pulled the cart away from the door, realizing it was lucky he hadn’t crumpled the little paper sea creatures on the door. Now that he was looking closer, he could see that his red starfish had a tiny smiley face on it and was labeled “Roman - From Rome.” It was _adorable,_ and _so_ him! It was even better in person than it looked in the picture Patton had sent him earlier! Roman reached into his pocket and fished out the envelope with his key in it.

“Oh, I left it unlocked,” Patton said, stepping forward and opening the door. “Here they are!” 

“Oh my _goodness!”_ Roman said happily, following Patton across the room to a tank set up on top of a small shelving unit in the corner—it looked like all the supplies were on the two shelves below the tank. “It looks like a fishtank,” he commented, bending down to examine it closer. 

“Yeah,” Patton said. “They’re African Dwarf Frogs, they’re aquatic—there are five of them in here, I don’t know if you can see them all right now—oh look! There are some!” 

Sure enough, a couple of small frogs were swimming through the water. 

“They’re _adorable!”_ Roman clasped his hands to his chest, stepping back and twirling around. 

Patton was practically glowing with excitement. “I’ve had them for about a year! I really like them. Most of them are females, so they aren’t too noisy, either.”

“You’ll have to teach me all about them!” Roman declared. He had already learned a few things over the last few days as he and Patton had begun getting to know each other over text, but he was sure there was more to hear. 

“I’d love to! Also, I put their food in our minifridge’s freezer, I hope that’s okay—I don’t have anything else in there besides that, and it’s all sealed up, of course.” 

“Hey, it’s your freezer just as much as it is mine, you can keep whatever you please there,” Roman said. “I’ll probably put some ice cream in, but I don’t plan to use it much besides that.” He shrugged. “Besides, I’m on the meal plan, I’m not really planning to make much food of my own. The fridge is basically _more_ yours than mine.” Patton had mentioned a few days ago that he’d opted out of the meal plan and was going to prepare his own food. The school had even sent Roman information last month on “supporting a roommate with allergies and dietary needs,” and he’d read it all—Remus was lactose intolerant (not that Remus cared) and Mum was allergic to eggs, so it hadn’t been completely new ground to him.

“I can apply for a second one if I need to, actually,” Patton said, indicating the school-issued minifridge in the corner. “Don’t worry about how much space we each need. I just figured I’d wait and see if I really need it before applying.” 

“Okay, sounds good,” Roman said. “Do you think—”

“Roman, here’s your bedding,” Mama said at the door—evidently she was back from parking the car. 

Roman was already shaking his head before he even turned around. “No, that’s my—” He saw the box. “No, wait, that _is_ my bedding!” Roman crossed the room and took the box out of her arms. “How’d you know?”

“Mama knows everything,” she said mysteriously. 

Roman stared at her, making his best skeptical face, eyebrow poised _just_ so to convey the perfect degree of disbelief. 

Mama chuckled, reached out, and patted his cheek. “Plus Remus told me,” she added. “Now hup to and get unpacking, kiddo.” 

Roman sighed, plopped the box on the floor, and ripped the tape open. The sheets were at the top—something he’d thought of just before sealing the box, and had repacked the entire thing for. He pulled them out now—crisp white sheets, with red trim on the flat one and the pillowcases—and scaled the ladder to the top bunk. 

“Do you need any help with unpacking?” Patton asked. 

“No, that’s okay,” Roman said. “You already unpacked all your own stuff. But I really appreciate the offer, thank you!” He leaned over the railing and grinned at Patton, who had taken a seat at his desk. “Besides, even my own moms can’t understand my organizational system. Tell me about your frogs!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just want the creativitwins to be friends with each other don't @ me
> 
> Next up: Remus, duh!


	6. Move In Day - Remus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus knows leaving for college is usually bittersweet, but no matter how much xe loves xyr moms, it really just feels sweet to xem. Xyr baby brother (who, yes, is technically xyr twin) seems to have unfortunately gotten the more bitter end of the emotions deal—but cheering Roman up is something Remus has always been good at.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, i said last chapter i hoped to upload this one more quickly. but consider this: we are in a pandemic and time is fake. <3
> 
> all jokes aside, this chapter turned out way longer than I expected, and I was still in my summer class until the end of last week, so it did take longer than I expected to write. We'll see what things look like moving forward. 
> 
> Notes on Remus’s own pronoun use: Typically one or maybe two pronoun set(s) will feel most right to xem at a given moment, so Remus tends to think of xemself with whichever pronouns xe is most vibing with at the moment. So in Remus’s chapters, pronoun usage will shift around every once in a while and cycle through a bunch of different pronouns, but not nearly as often as when Roman talks about xem. However, even though certain pronouns feel best to xem at certain times, xe don’t care which pronouns other people use for xem—xe feels like it would be a lot of work to update everyone all the time on which pronouns are currently best, and doesn’t feel a lot of distress at other pronouns being used. This is not meant to be a universal experience for folks who use multiple pronoun sets at all; it’s simply in line with my own experience and therefore easy for me to write.

Remus looked around the common room appraisingly from xyr vantage point, perched on xyr cart. There had been two boys sitting on one of the sofas and chatting when xyr family had arrived; one of them had turned out to be Roman’s roommate. The other one was still sitting on the couch, looking slightly dazed in the aftermath of the Kingsley twins’ loud arrival. He composed himself when he noticed Remus looking at him. 

“Would I be correct in guessing that you’re Remus?” the boy asked.

“The one and only! Logan?” Remus hopped down from the cart.

“Indeed.” Logan got to his feet and offered his hand to shake. 

Remus shook nicely, since it _was_ their first meeting and xe _was_ going to have to live with this dude for a whole nine months, then offered a fistbump, which Logan returned after a brief pause. 

“Remus, can you get started unpacking?” Mum asked. 

“Oh, sure.” Remus moved to open the door to xyr dorm. There was a green octopus labeled “Remus - Founder of Rome” on the door; one of the tentacles was a little crumpled from where Remus had slammed into the door when xe’d raced Roman. “Dammit,” xe mumbled, smoothing at the tentacle. 

“Language, baby,” Mum said with a sigh. 

“Mum, I am eighteen years old, I can say what I want!” Remus gave up on the tentacle; it added character. Xe pulled out xyr key and unlocked the door. “Oh, dude, your blankets are _sick,”_ xe commented over their shoulder to Logan; the constellation-themed bedding just visible on the top bunk was the first thing that caught xyr eye.

“I… what?” Logan looked baffled. 

“You know. Sick. Like awesome.” Remus picked up a box out of the cart—school supplies. 

“Those words… definitely do not mean the same thing as each other.” Logan followed xem into the room. 

“Hey, I didn’t invent it, take it up with Urban Dictionary.” Remus shrugged, setting the box down on the empty desk and ripping the tape off.

Logan pursed his lips. “I doubt Urban Dictionary invented it either, strictly speaking. It’s a communal website, anyone can create an entry.” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Remus shot a grin at Logan to show him there was no ill feeling. Xe pulled out xer desk lamp and set it down, then pulled out the power strip xe’d packed. When they knelt to plug it in, however, they saw there was another power strip already there, with “Housing” written in sharpie on the side. 

“Oh, shit,” xe said, not in disappointment but as an exclamation of interest. “Logan, did you bring a power strip? What’d you do with it?” 

“I used the second outlet,” Logan said. He pulled his desk slightly away from the wall to show Remus that, indeed, there were two power strips plugged into the outlet behind Logan’s desk.

“D’you think I could plug this into the other one?” Remus said, examining the two power strips in xyr hands. “Or would that make something explode?” 

Logan made a pondering face rather than being immediately alarmed, which made him go up several pegs in Remus’s estimation. “That’s an excellent question,” he said finally. “I’d say test it and see, but risking damage to school property on the first day is maybe not our smartest move. We could ask Thomas?” 

“Like, go downstairs and ask him?” Remus said. 

“No, I added his number to my phone half an hour ago, it’s on the sign outside. I’ll text him if you want.” 

“Sure!” Remus said. 

A moment later, xyr phone pinged. Xe’d been added to a group chat with “Nerdy Wolverine” and “Unknown Number.” 

_Hello Thomas, this is Logan and Remus. We were wondering if we can plug a power strip into another power strip, or if that will make something explode. Thank you._

Remus cackled, adding the second phone number to xyr contacts as “Tohmsa (RA) (need nickname).” Logan’s use of “we,” even though this had been entirely Remus’s idea and Logan had no need to involve himself in the responsibility, improved xyr opinion of him even further. 

While the two waited for a response from Thomas, Remus unpacked the rest of the box into the drawers of xyr desk. 

“Remus, what’s in this?” Mama said from the door, holding one of Roman’s boxes. 

“Mama!” Remus hopped up, ran to her, and gave her a quick, squeezy-tight hug. “Uhhhh, that’s his sheets and things,” xe said, giving the box a cursory examination. 

“Perfect, thank you, honey.” Mama headed over to Roman’s room with the box. 

While xe was already over at the door, Remus grabbed another box. As xe set it down on the seat of the desk chair, xyr phone pinged again. 

_Tohmsa (RA) (need nickname): Hi, I just saw this. I don’t recommend that_

Remus snickered and shot off a quick response: _aw, ur no fun lol_

 _ok tho,_ xe added after a second’s thought. 

“That is not how you spell _any_ of those words,” Logan announced with a slight venom to his voice, just as Thomas liked Remus’s second message. 

Remus grinned. “I know, that’s why I do it.” 

Logan gave xem a very pained look. 

“Sorry,” Remus said with a smile and a shrug.

“I do not think you are.” Logan’s tone was plaintive. 

“True, true. Oh, hi Mum!” 

“Mama is helping Roman. What shall we do in here?” Mum said. 

“Can you help with my clothes?” Remus made xyr—no, their? _Their_ way across the room in a flash once again and pulled another box out of the cart, then two more, then a fourth from the second cart, and stacked them all just inside the door of the room. “That’s these boxes. Roman has two more boxes of clothes than me!” they added _very_ quickly, seeing the look on Mum’s face at the number of boxes. “And you and Mama are the ones who bought them for us, anyway.” 

Mum didn’t say anything, just shook her head and opened the first box. 

“I used this closet and dresser, so the other ones are for you,” Logan said, pointing them out. He now seemed to be perusing a stack of textbooks on his desk—there was no way he had homework yet, but in Remus’s estimation, he _did_ seem to be _that_ nerdy.

“Thank you, dear,” Mum said to Logan with a smile. 

Remus pulled out their box of bedding and headed over to the bottom bunk. “Logan, what’s your favorite animal?” they asked idly to make conversation, ripping the box open and digging through it until they found the sheets all the way at the bottom—black with emerald-green trim, a matching set with Roman. 

“Any kind of corvid,” Logan responded almost instantly. “Cats are also nice.” 

Remus grinned. “Corvids are fantastic.” They tossed the sheets onto the bed and set about shoving the spilled comforter back into the box so it’d be out of the way until they’d need it. 

“Yes,” Logan agreed, adjusting his glasses. “I wish there was more research on their intelligence levels, they’re so fascinating.” 

“Mood. Have you ever seen a crow skeleton?” Remus asked. They retrieved their mattress topper from one of the carts and tossed it onto their bunk. 

“I don’t think so, why?” Logan said.

Remus spread the mattress topper out on the bed. “They’re hella cool—sorry Mum—because they’ve still got the beak, you know?” They began wrangling the fitted sheet with only moderate success. “So it’s all bony, and the bones are all white, but then the beak is still all shiny and black, and it looks like it got dipped in paint or something.” 

“Fascinating,” Logan said, sounding genuinely interested and not at all horrified like most people tended to be. 

“Yeah, there’s a bunch of skeletons in this natural history museum we visit at home, they’re fantastic,” Remus said happily. The sheet was halfway on now; they moved to the other end of the mattress to repeat the process. 

“What about _your_ favorite animal?” Logan asked. 

“Ooh. That’s hard to choose. I usually like the ones that are like, super weird. Like, anything from the bottom of the ocean?” Remus made a chef’s kiss motion. “Incredible. Love me some tentacled horrors.” 

“That’s terrifying,” Logan commented with a small laugh.

“Thank you!” Remus beamed at him. They picked up the flat sheet and vaguely spread it across the bed, not bothering to tuck it in around the edges, then went to retrieve their pillow. “I really don’t think modern media takes _nearly_ enough advantage of the terrifying shit—sorry Mum—we already know is down there, you know what I mean?” they said, deciding to test the waters of Logan’s tolerance for long rambles. They’d infodumped back and forth to one another over text a few times already, so they were hopeful, but you never knew. “Like, we know so little about what the bottom of the ocean is like, and there’s already _plenty_ that horror and action could work with, not to mention extrapolating! Why make another alien bad guy when you could have something three times as horrible _that lives right at home on planet Earth!”_

Logan was quiet for a moment. 

Remus stopped what they were doing and looked over at Logan to gauge his face. The boy didn’t look nearly as weirded out as they’d been a little worried he would. Instead, he looked—excited? He seemed to be on the verge of lighting up with an idea, like a cartoon. “Sort of like the monsters heroes fought in many mythologies, you mean?” He adjusted his glasses. 

“Hell yeah! Sorry Mum. Love that shit,” Remus said enthusiastically. 

“Darling, much as I appreciate the thought, apologies mean nothing without actions to accompany them,” Mum said mildly. 

“Okay, okay, sorry. I’ll stop for now.” Remus figured they could handle not swearing any more for an hour or two. They dug the comforter out of the box and tossed it onto the bed, vaguely spreading it out.

“Thank you,” Mum said. 

Remus nodded and looked back to Logan. “Are you, like, into greek mythology and sh—stuff?” They ignored the way Mum rolled her eyes at the obvious save. 

“A little,” Logan said. He adjusted his glasses. “I was more interested in middle school. It wound up getting me into astronomy, though, and I’m still very interested in that—I’m thinking of minoring in it.” 

“Oooh, star signs?” Remus asked. They knew perfectly well the difference between astrology and astronomy, but pretending to confuse the two almost always yielded entertaining results. 

_“No,”_ Logan said, instantly and vehemently. “Astrology is a pseudoscience that has no basis in fact and is completely different from—”

“Buddy, chill. I’m just messing with you,” Remus interjected before Logan had time to get fully worked up. 

“—astronomy, which is the scientific study of—” Logan broke off and blinked. “You—why?” 

“It’s funny, I dunno.” Remus shrugged, then seeing the look of genuine upset on Logan’s face, went on quickly, “Don’t be mad—here, you can tell me any star thing you want and I’ll listen.”

Logan pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at Remus, crossing his arms. 

“I’m sorry, okay?” Remus said quickly, since it didn’t matter to them and seemed to matter quite a bit to Logan. “I won’t make fun again.” 

“I accept your apology,” Logan said, tone suspicious, slowly uncrossing his arms. 

“C’mon, bro, hit me with that sexy sexy space knowledge,” Remus urged, grinning hopefully at him and spreading their arms in an inviting gesture. 

Logan rolled his eyes, but adjusted his glasses. “So, you know black holes?” he began.

“Oh, I already like where this is going,” Remus declared, grin spreading wider. 

Half an hour later, Remus (and Mum, and then Mama when she decided she wanted to switch rooms so both mothers got to help both twins unpack) had more or less unpacked all of Remus’s belongings, while all the while Logan and Remus excitedly rambled back and forth to one another. They jumped from black holes to alternate universe theories to science fiction to artificial intelligence to octopodes to computer animation to, somehow, the science behind lava lamps. 

“So it looks like it’s all about density,” Logan said, both of them sitting on the edge of Remus’s bed huddling over Logan’s phone, which was open to a WikiHow article. Both Remus’s mothers were in the other room; Roman had come in a couple of minutes ago and dragged Mama away to come see his roommate’s pets.

“That makes sense, I guess,” Remus agreed. “Is it edible?” They pointed at the diagram of lava lamp ingredients. 

“Wha—no?” Logan looked very concerned. “Why would you—”

“It looks so pretty.” Remus shrugged. “I see no reason to resist the whim to put everything in my mouth that has dogged me since my eating-sand-at-the-playground toddler days.” 

“What the actual hell, Remus,” Logan said, but he couldn’t quite stifle a snicker. 

“Ooh! Look, a video!” Remus scrolled down a little on Logan’s phone screen and clicked the “Lava Lamp In Action” video until it filled the screen. There was silence for a moment. 

“That is _incredibly_ satisfying,” Logan acknowledged. He glanced up from the phone to Remus with a slight grin. 

Remus beamed back. “Should we make one?” they asked.

Logan’s expression shifted to curiosity. “Make a lava lamp?” 

“Yeah! If it’s just about density and heat, how hard can it be?” 

“That’s a good point—oh, wait, aren’t they on the banned items list?”

Of _course_ Logan knew off the top of his head what was and wasn’t on the banned items list Housing had emailed everyone last month. “That just makes it more fun,” Remus argued. “Nobody will come searching through our room for banned items, anyway.”

“I don’t know…” Logan seemed to be fighting an inner battle. 

“Come on, are you saying we aren’t responsible enough to safely create a basic science experiment?” Remus challenged. Responsibility had been a topic that had come up a time or two over text in the last week, and they weren’t above a little pandering to get what they wanted. 

“I mean, I’m sure I’ll need to know where we’d buy these sorts of supplies anyway,” Logan reasoned after a moment. “There’s no harm in at least checking out what the options are.” 

“Oh hell yeah! That’s my guy!” Remus clapped Logan on the back. Now that the first bit of ground had been given so easily, they were sure they could persuade him to join in on most hijinks that caught their attention. 

_“Oh my god,_ you made a _friend!”_ Roman’s voice squealed. 

“Shut the fuck up, Roman,” Remus responded automatically before even looking up. 

Both their mothers stood behind Roman in the open doorway, all three looking incredibly fond—presumably at Remus and Logan’s excited chatter—though Mum was now crossing her arms. “Shit. I’m sorry, Mum, I swear—” Remus began. 

Mum sighed. “Enough, Remus.” 

Remus shut their mouth. 

“Introduce me?” Logan asked Remus, sliding off the bed to his feet. 

“Oh, yeah. This is my roommate Logan! Logan, this is my Mama, my Mum, and my Roman.” Remus waved at their family members with a proud flourish. 

“You can call me Bridget. Lovely to meet you, young man,” Mama said, taking Logan’s offered handshake. 

“An absolute pleasure,” Roman declared grandly, dipping into a dramatic bow over Logan’s hand without quite kissing it—a gesture that Remus knew for a fact was based on Roman’s favorite Disney prince. They’d watched him practice it in the mirror for weeks last spring, and then proceed to use it on every new acquaintance he’d made for the last five months. 

Logan seemed slightly alarmed by the gesture, casting a glance at Remus out of the side of his eye as if asking for guidance. Remus shrugged at him; they didn’t care to rescue him from Roman when Logan’s bewildered reaction was so funny. 

Mum took pity on Logan and nudged Roman aside so she could have a turn shaking Logan’s hand, much to the boy’s evident relief. “And I’m Yasmin,” she introduced herself. “I’m glad you and Remus seem to be getting along so well.” 

After a few more brief pleasantries, Roman scooted over to Remus’s side. “We’ve gotta go get dinner,” he said into Remus’s ear, not really lowering his tone that much. 

“Speak a little louder, I can’t hear you,” Remus said dryly, pushing Roman away in case he took them too literally just to annoy them. 

He did just that. “I _SAID—”_ Roman began. 

“No, shut up,” Remus interrupted, laughing. 

“Oh, please don’t let me keep you,” Logan said. “See you later, Remus?” 

“Sure thing—” Remus began, then broke off, distracted, grabbing Roman by the shoulders. _“Ohmygod cute boy at two o’clock!”_ A pale boy in a turtleneck and denim jacket was opening the doorway across the hall. 

“Where?” Roman instantly demanded, head swiveling. 

“That’s gay,” Remus snickered, nudging Roman, as the turtleneck boy made eye contact with Logan and gave him a smirk and a two-fingered salute before shutting the door.

“We are _literally both queer—_ oh, never mind. Anyway, he wasn’t _that_ cute. You just have a thing for blond guys,” Roman said dismissively.

“I do _not._ I _actually_ have a ‘thing’ for—”

“No, please, I don’t want to know,” Roman interrupted. “Don’t need to be mentally scarred for life, thanks.” 

Remus didn’t press the issue and turned instead to Logan. “Do you know him?” 

Logan made a face. “Not really, he and Patton and I were just chatting earlier after we’d all moved in. His name’s Janus.” 

“Not a fan of him?” Remus asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It is far too early for me to make a judgement about his character or what my opinions of him may or may not be. First impressions are nothing to go by and I will need more data in order to have a valid opinion on him,” Logan said flatly. 

Remus took that as “no, definitely not a fan,” and was considering whether or not to pry when Mama cleared her throat. 

“We really ought to be going. It was very nice to meet you, Logan, I hope we’ll be seeing you again sometime.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Kingsley. Mrs. Kingsley. Roman. Bye, Remus,” Logan said, nodding politely. 

Remus gave him a bright smile and followed their family out of the room and towards the parking lot.

After a couple of moments, Roman nudged them. 

“What?” Remus asked. 

“Jason Daniels. Morgan-John Jackson. Bri Smith,” Roman said, counting them off on his fingers. All various crushes Remus had had in high school, and, now that they stopped to think about it, all blond boys.

“Shut up,” they said, rolling their eyes.

“Adam Delvine. Francisco Torres, starting two days after he bleached his hair. Carson Mitchell. And that’s not even getting into celebrity crushes. Chris Hemsworth. Tom Felton—” 

“You’re cherrypicking,” Remus accused. “I’ve had plenty of crushes who weren’t blond.”

“Name three,” Roman challenged. 

“Chris Wilson, Jesus Cruz, uhhhh Vic Cameron—”

 _“You had a crush on Vic Cameron?”_ Roman’s eyes could almost have fallen out of his skull. 

“Yeah. Now shut up about it.” 

Roman grabbed their arm. “Like, Vic Cameron in Honors English? School football star Vic Cameron? Prom King Vic Cameron? Vic ‘Perfect Sexy Jawline’ Cameron? _That Vic Cameron?”_

“Yeah, yeah, it was in freshman year for like two weeks, chill out about it.” Remus waved their hand in the air, dismissing the matter. Roman’s crush-that-he-still-denied-was-a-crush on Vic had lasted for way longer, anyway. Remus had had to work with Vic on a group project in spring of freshman year and realized quickly that he was kind of an asshole, which had expedited the death of the already-fading crush. 

Roman didn’t drop it. “I can’t _believe_ I didn’t know that _my own twin_ had a _crush_ on—”

“Mum!” Remus called. “Roman’s being mean!” 

They could practically hear Mum’s eyeroll. “It’s your mama’s turn to solve things.” 

“Hm—Remus gets to pick the music in the car, now stop fighting,” Mama said. 

Roman pouted all the way to the car, only perking up when Mama began listing off the options for dinner. The family decided on a nearby Mediterranean restaurant, because falafel was one of Roman’s favorite foods, and while Mum pulled up the directions, Remus turned on My Chemical Romance. Roman was pretending not to like MCR that much anymore, and he really needed to get over himself about it, so they figured this would be good for him. 

After dinner—which was delicious; Remus noted down the address in their Notes app and made a quick list of dishes they thought they or Roman would like—the twins raced each other to the parking meter to fill it back up, and then raced each other back to where Mama and Mum were following them at a more leisurely pace. 

“Now what?” Remus asked. 

“Well, that’s up to you two, really,” Mum said. “Do you want to go back to campus now, or do you want to explore a little?” 

“Explore!” Roman and Remus chorused. 

“And get dessert?” Roman tacked on hopefully. 

“Always the dessert with this one,” Mama said, ruffling Roman’s hair with a smile. “I hear there’s an ice cream place a few blocks away.” 

“Yes!” Roman pumped a fist in the air. 

“They’re known for their experimental flavors,” Mum added. 

“Ooh,” Remus commented, interest piqued. 

“Let’s go let’s go let’s _go!”_ Roman grabbed Mama and Remus’s hands and tugged them down the sidewalk. 

“Other way, Roman,” Mum said. 

The sun had begun setting while they were eating dinner, but it was still light out, getting all purple-y and soft. Roman kept up a happy stream of chatter as they walked, alight and practically glowing with excitement as he basked in the attention of their mothers, his loose curls bouncing in time with the spring in his step, his words tripping over each other as he hurried to get them out, every once in a while interrupting himself with a laugh. Mum had her arm linked through Roman’s, smoothing his hair with soft little touches, and reaching out to squeeze Remus’s hand every now and again, eyes warm and soft. Mama, on Roman’s other side, wore a face more closed off, eyes fixed on her family like she was drinking in the sight of them. Her eyes met Remus’s, and she gave them a bittersweet smile, reaching her arm out behind Roman and Mum. 

Remus reached to meet her, and let her squeeze their hand. They were going to miss her, too, more than they could wrap words around their meaning to convey it, so they simply squeezed back, a little too hard. 

“Remus! _Remus!”_ Roman said, louder than he needed to.

Remus looked away from Mama. Roman was bouncing on the balls of his feet as he walked. “What?” they asked. 

“What flavor of ice cream would you invent?”

“Snot and cherry,” Remus retorted. 

_“Gross!”_ Roman commented, but Remus could see the hidden delight on his face. 

“Pickled poo,” they continued, pleased with his reaction. “Root beer and jalapeno. Mint orange. Watermelon diarrh—”

“That's enough, I think,” Mama put in, sounding vaguely amused. 

“Rat Feast,” they added quickly. “Your turn, Ro.”

 _“What_ is a rat feast?” Roman demanded. 

“Think about it,” Remus said mysteriously. They figured leaving it to the imagination was more terrible than anything concrete they could come up with. It seemed to work, judging by the look on Roman’s face. 

“What, no flavors from you? Guess I win,” Remus said, to nudge him back into the conversation. 

“No! It isn’t a competition,” Roman whined. 

“Fine, fine. Tell me though, I want to hear.” 

Roman lit up. “You do?” 

“Course I do, idiot.” Remus smiled at their twin. 

Roman made a small happy noise. “Okay, so you know how unicorn-inspired flavors are a thing? Like at Starbucks, or whatever? Hear me out: dragon flavors! Dragon’s Hoard, which could be like a super rich chocolatey thing with lots of chunks of fudge or whatever and caramel swirled in, Dragonfire for something with spice added in, and then a bunch of different flavors based on dragon scale colors. I’m not sure what those should taste like. I just think dragon ice cream would be _so cool!”_

Remus had to admit, that was a pretty sweet idea. “I guess,” they said nonchalantly. 

Roman stuck his tongue out at them. 

They snickered. “It sounds great, Ro.” 

Roman tossed his head, sticking his nose in the air. “Of _course_ it does,” he said primly, shaking his curls, the picture of confidence. The only thing that gave him away was his shoulders relaxing at Remus’s approval. 

Remus continued to alternate between needling Roman and encouraging him for the remaining block and a half, drawing out several more ideas from him, some of which—like chocolate lime—sounded terrible and some of which—like strawberry mint—they had to admit were intriguing. The actual flavors in the store were almost disappointing in comparison.

Almost. 

Before long, the family were all gathered around a little round table just outside the shop; Remus had a waffle bowl with two scoops of “Sweetest Heat”—a chili mango that actually had a decent kick to it—and one scoop of “Dreamy Afternoons”—a rich chocolate ice cream with dried lavender flowers and a strong lavender syrup swirled in; this second flavor they’d chosen partly because it was dairy-free, to make Mama and Mum happy, even though they’d taken their probiotics before dinner anyway. The other reason they’d picked this chocolatey flavor to go with the chili mango was that mixing flavors that didn’t really go together almost never bothered them, and it bugged Roman no end whenever they did it. So it was really a win-win situation.

“That is _disgusting,”_ Roman commented, right on cue, staring at Remus’s ice cream as they swirled the melted cream at the bottom of the dish together with a spoon before ladling it into their mouth. Roman had gotten a sugar cone with sprinkles on the outside, with a scoop of “Lazy Summer”—a peach and honeycomb confection—and a scoop of “Garden of Roses”—which had a strawberry base, but was rose flavored, with a few actual dried rose petals swirled in. 

“Yeah, what’s your point?” Remus responded, poking the chocolate ice cream in their bowl with a finger and then licking it off. They grinned at Roman, who made a face. 

Remus leaned back in their chair, surveying their family gathered around the table. Mama had gotten a single scoop of the same “Lazy Summer” ice cream as Roman, in a paper cup, and Mum had gotten a scoop of the “Sweetest Heat” paired with a scoop of plain vanilla bean in a waffle cone. Remus swung their legs happily; perfect moments like this were so satisfying. They would be happy to be carbon frozen right here and now with the rest of their family and spend the rest of eternity basking in this emotion. 

But all too soon, Mama was pushing back her chair and getting to her feet. “It’s just past seven,” she announced. “You two have that meeting thing at eight, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Roman said, licking daintily at the now-tiny, nearly gone, cone in his hand; he always took time to savor his desserts, whereas Remus always wolfed them down—they’d finished a solid ten minutes ago. 

They cleaned up their trash and headed back to the car, where Remus and Roman only briefly scuffled over the aux cord before Mum confiscated it and turned on Queen. By the time they pulled into the school parking lot two and a half songs later, all the twins’ bickering troubles were forgotten in the delight of shouting Bohemian Rhapsody lyrics with their family. 

Mum and Mama walked them back up to their rooms; Logan was in the common area, chatting with a couple of other people, and when Roman peeked into his room Patton was on the phone with someone, so they all piled into Remus’s room for the last few minutes before their mothers left for the hotel room they’d booked for the night. Between the mandatory meeting the twins were about to have, orientation starting early tomorrow morning, and the drive home being a solid seven hours, they wouldn’t be able to come back for another goodbye before they headed home; so all four of them squeezed onto Remus’s bunk to spend a few last minutes together. 

“Look at you,” Mama said, chucking Remus (who was closer) under the chin and glancing between the two of them. “All ready to go. I’m so proud of you both.” 

“I love you, Mama,” Roman said; he was happily curled up in Mum’s arms as she smoothed his curls. His eyes were closed, and he looked as pleased as a cat in a warm patch of sunlight. 

“Love you too, baby,” Mama said fondly. 

“Did you know,” Mum said, still stroking Roman’s hair, “we decided we wanted kids before we even moved in together?” 

“Tell,” Remus urged, even though they already knew the story. 

“It was the cat!” Mum giggled.

“It was the cat,” Mama admitted, laughing along. “We doted on her.” 

“Can’t believe we’re just replacement cats,” Remus said with a dramatic sigh. 

Roman kicked vaguely in their direction, although he was at completely the wrong angle to land a hit. “Shut up, don’t disgrace the name of Bubbles like this,” he protested. 

“Hey, we’re alright,” Remus retorted. “I think we make very decent replacement cats. I mean, look at you.” They nodded at the way he was cuddled against Mum. 

Roman stuck his tongue out, snuggling closer to her. 

“Much as we all loved Bubbles, you two are definitely my favorite,” Mum reassured him, bending down to kiss his forehead. 

They continued reminiscing for a few more minutes before Mama checked her watch and sighed. “It’s 7:30,” she commented. “Time to start saying goodbye.” 

“Nooo,” Roman whined, worming further into Mum’s embrace. “I’m too comfy.” 

Mum laughed sadly and kissed the top of his head. “It’s time, baby.” She looked over him at Mama. “Oh! Oh, Bridget! Get the, you know!” 

“You got us a surprise?” Roman bounced up immediately. 

“You know it, hon,” Mama said. “Remus, could you hand me my purse?” 

Remus leaned off the edge of the bed to grab the large, teal purse—really, it was more of a messenger bag—off the floor; they leaned a little too far and climbed off the bed with a small _thud_ to avoid fully falling. 

“You good?” Roman lifted his head slightly.

“Totally fine.” Remus handed the bag over to Mama. “What is it?” 

“We thought we’d send you off with a little reminder of our… _pride_ in you,” Mum said as Mama reached into the bag. 

Roman and Remus both perked up, sensing the pun from her tone. 

“So,” Mama continued, “we got you these!” She pulled two folded-up pieces of fabric out. “Oh, shoot, the tags fell off,” she said, peering back into the bag and pulling out two paper tags with their names on them. 

“Only one way to find out which is which.” Remus seized one and shook it out; it was a gray t-shirt, with a heart in the colors of the pansexual flag on it. “Oh, this is yours,” they said, passing it on to Roman. They took the second one that Mama offered, unfolding it to see a Saturn-shaped planet in nonbinary colors. “Ooh, space!” they commented, holding it up against themself to display for their moms. “I like it.” 

“Thank you!” Roman chirped, leaning up to kiss Mum’s cheek and then over to kiss Mama’s. 

“You’re welcome,” Mama said. She got to her feet and offered Mum a hand to help her up. “Family hug?”

Roman hopped off the bed, too, and Mum reached out to Remus to pull them in. 

Family hugs were warm and safe and Remus liked them more than they would admit, even to Roman. They were aware, technically, that this was going to be the last one for a long time, but… it just hadn’t sunk in properly. Yeah, they’d broken down crying in their room one time last week when they were home alone, but aside from that they had yet to really think about the fact that leaving for college meant, well, _leaving._ Besides, time was only a construct, and Remus was good at waiting things out. They’d wondered if they’d feel upset at the actual moment of parting—the answer seemed to be evidently not, at least not to a serious degree. 

Roman was definitely sniffling, though. Remus gave him a gentle punch to the shoulder when the hug broke up, and he glanced over at them to give them a watery smile. 

“We love you,” Mum said, pulling Roman in for another hug; he hugged back tightly and buried his face in her shoulder. 

Remus allowed Mama to pull them in for a hug too, then switched with Roman to hug Mum. 

“And we love _you_ ,” Mum said to Remus, reaching up and booping their nose. 

Remus stuck their tongue out with a grin. “Yeah, I know,” they acknowledged softly. They tossed the new t-shirt onto their bed and followed their family out of the room, Roman still clinging to Mum and Mama’s hands. He didn’t let go of them until they were standing by the door to the stairs. 

“I’m going to miss you,” Roman said woefully. 

“We’ll miss you too,” Mama said. 

Roman looked like he was about to start crying again, so Remus did some very fast math in their head. 

“November eighteen,” Remus said. They nudged Roman. “That’s when Thanksgiving break starts. It’s only two months.” 

Roman looked over at them and nodded. “Yeah,” he said. 

“We can do two months,” Remus prompted. “Easy.” They slung an arm over Roman’s shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Roman said after a pause. He rested his head on Remus’s arm. “I guess,” he added more quietly. 

“Of course you can,” Mama said briskly, giving each of them a pat on the cheek in turn. “It’ll be Mum and I that have the hard time of it, just wait and see. You two will make lots of friends, but I hardly know what _we’ll_ do with ourselves.”

“Oh, I do.” Mum winked at her. 

_“Mum!”_ Roman cried, scandalized; Remus burst out laughing. 

“Yes, dear?” Mum said sweetly. 

“I—” Roman shook his head helplessly. 

With only a few more kisses, smiles, and reassurances, their mothers made it out the door. 

Roman’s expression wavered. Remus glanced at their watch; 7:47. Nearly eight o’clock. They pointed Roman at the group of boys sitting in the common room—Roman’s roommate, Patton, had joined Logan and the other person, an East Asian boy who was wearing a black hoodie, fingerless gloves, and eyeshadow that made him look like he’d jumped straight out of 2008. He was sitting curled up in a ball and tucked into the very corner of the couch, taking up far less space than anyone else present, and was partaking in the conversation in a low voice at the same time as he scrolled on his phone, head bent over it so his hair obscured his eyes. 

“Go say hi,” Remus instructed Roman. “Make friends.” 

“Aren’t you—?” Roman began. 

“I want to go hang up my flag before the meeting. I’ll be right back. Go say hi!” they repeated, giving him a little push and walking away to their room. 

As they neared the hallway, the blond boy Remus had noticed earlier emerged from his room. Some funky ancient Roman name with a J—ha, ancient Roman—wasn’t it? 

“Oh my god, cute boy! Hi!” Remus said loudly, lighting up and planting themself directly in his path. They could see both Roman _and_ Logan facepalming out of the corner of their eye, which might not be a good sign in the long run, but _did_ mean that whatever Remus did next was likely to be very entertaining. 

“Ah… hello,” the boy said, quirking an eyebrow. He was slim and short, a good six inches shorter than Remus at _least,_ and he had dark green eyes that weren’t quite hazel. Despite his delicate build, he managed to give off a fairly intimidating air. The subtle scornful expression that seemed to be his default helped a lot. 

“I’m Remus,” Remus forged ahead. “Nice to meet you.” 

“Janus,” the boy drawled, openly sizing them up and seeming unimpressed. “Likewise.” 

“How’d you get your scar?” Remus asked, staring curiously at it. 

_“Remus!”_ Roman gasped. 

“Shut up, you’re not listening in on my conversation,” they called over their shoulder. 

Janus’s lips twitched in a cold smile, whether at Remus’s question or their interaction with Roman was hard to tell. “I fought God as a five year old,” he deadpanned. “It’s _none of your business.”_

“Oh, shit, sorry. I just meant—listen, it’s sexy, okay?” Remus said. 

Janus’s eyes widened, and he seemed genuinely taken aback, cheeks flushing pale pink. “I—what?” His voice softened, its threatening edge dulled by confusion. 

“I dunno what to tell you, man.” Remus shrugged. “Don’t take it personally, I just thought you should know.” They patted him on the shoulder. “Good talk!” they said cheerily, and moved past him to get to their room, vaguely aware that Janus was staring after them. There were only a few minutes left till the meeting, and they really did want to get the flag hung up so the thought of it would get out of their head.

They took the new pride shirt off their bed and went to put it away in their dresser; they were interrupted by a cough. They looked up, half expecting Janus to have come back to snap at them, but instead—“Sup, Logan?” 

“Hi,” Logan said, stepping in and closing the door. He fidgeted with his glasses. “How was your dinner with your family?”

“Fantastic,” Remus said. “What’s up, though?” 

“I wanted to talk,” Logan said, sounding rather grateful at Remus’s dismissal of the small talk. 

“Sure thing. Shoot,” Remus said, hopping onto their bed and sitting criss-cross. Putting up their flag could wait, at least for a minute, for whatever this was—it sounded important, from Logan’s tone and the way he was still fidgeting with his glasses. 

Logan took a seat at his desk, drumming his fingers on the edge of it. He seemed to notice what he was doing and fished in the top drawer for a Rubik’s cube to fidget with instead. “I was wondering why you chose the Pride dorms,” he began after a minute. 

“I dunno. Everyone in my family’s some kind of queer. Roman really wanted to live in these dorms, and he’s a total dork but I kinda like having him around, you know?” Remus shrugged. “So I guess I signed up because he did.” 

“Oh,” Logan said, tone indecipherable. He solved the cube, smiled proudly at it for a second, and then began mixing it up again. “What are your thoughts on gender identity?” he asked after another few seconds.

“Love it,” Remus said, starting to get an idea of where this conversation might be going. “I drink my Respecting Genders juice every day.” 

“What?” Logan paused, looked up from the cube, and stared at them, clearly bewildered. 

“It’s a meme, nerd,” they explained. They weren’t totally sure how an American teenager could have as little exposure to meme culture as Logan seemed to—he _had_ to be lying when he said the only social medias he’d ever had were Instagram and Twitter, and only for two years, and that he “didn’t use them recreationally,” right?—but it probably wasn’t his fault, and it was never too late to help him learn. 

“Ohh,” Logan said again, face clearing up, hands continuing to turn the cube without even looking at it now. “That’s cool.” 

“Hell yeah it is,” Remus agreed amiably. 

Logan solved the cube again, looked down, grinned, and began scrambling it once more. “I, uh,” he said, quiet and a little more solemn, clearly trying hard to be casual, “I just wanted to let you know. Since we’re going to be roommates now. That I’m trans.” 

“Oh, fuck yeah, dude!” Remus responded. “Love that for you. I’m nonbinary,” they added, realizing that it had somehow never come up. 

“Wait, really?” Logan looked thrilled. “What are your pronouns?”

“Yeah! I use all pronouns. Use whatever you want. Roman’s super extra about it and switches it up every single time, but like, nobody else does that. I was actually literally about to get out my flag and hang it up when you came in, oh my god.” Remus hopped down and ran across the room to pull the flag out of the last box, sitting under their desk—decorations. The top three stripes of the flag were covered in Sharpie scribbles: their own name written large across the middle, surrounded by lots of little doodles, a bunch of different pronouns, and the names of people who were important to Remus. “See?” They held the flag up proudly to show Logan. 

“Nice,” Logan said, positively beaming. 

“Fuck yeah it is!” Remus pulled out their box of thumbtacks and climbed back onto the bed to hang the flag up on the wall over it. “How about you?”

“How about me what?” Logan asked.

“Pronouns,” Remus clarified. Logan hadn’t specified a gender or pronouns to go with the transness, and they didn’t want to simply guess based on Logan’s presentation. 

“Oh! He/him,” Logan said. “I have a flag too.” He glanced towards his closet. “Do you mind if I—?”

“Go for it! Let’s make a name as the Down With Cis room in this dorm!” 

“Well, I don’t know about that…” Logan demurred. 

“Up With Trans, then. Whatever floats your boat. We have the cool genders, everyone else can get wrecked.” 

Logan smiled again, pulling out a trans flag that had clearly seen a lot of love; the fold lines Remus had never been able to quite get out of their own flag were completely faded from Logan’s, and it looked soft and floppy instead of holding some of its plasticy crispness. He dug something out of his desk and climbed the bunk bed ladder to the top bunk, where he began hanging it up. 

Remus finished and backed up to the opposite wall (which admittedly wasn’t very far) to get a better view. When Logan finished, he joined them. 

“It looks fantastic,” Remus said, holding their hand up for a high five. 

“It does,” Logan said softly, high fiving them. 

Remus pulled out their phone and snapped a picture. “Is it okay if I send this to my moms?” 

Logan hesitated; Remus quickly added, “It’s fine if it’s not.” 

“Sure,” Logan said after a moment, but he still sounded reluctant. 

Remus raised an eyebrow. “I’ll just send them a picture of my own bed, it’s okay.”

“It’s fine,” Logan insisted. 

“Yeah, but ‘fine’ isn’t ‘good,’ so it’s a no go for me, pal,” Remus said, turning their phone to a landscape ratio and snapping a second picture that left Logan’s bunk out. “I’ll send you the full pic, though.” 

Logan pursed his lips and looked away, picking up his Rubik’s cube again, which was already scrambled. “Thanks,” he said, _almost_ nonchalantly, after solving it in maybe ten seconds. 

The doorknob rattled, but seemed to be locked on the outside; the subsequent loud knocking that followed was undoubtedly Roman. “Hey Remus! Remus!” 

“What?” Remus yelled, because Roman was yelling and they weren’t one to be outdone. 

“Come out!”

“I’m nonbinary and I like men!” Remus screamed at the top of their lungs. 

_“Remus!_ I’m _serious!”_

“I’m funny, fuck you!” 

“It’s eight, and you’re late. To the dorm meeting, that is! Which is not great!” 

“Fucking Seussian persnickity punctual ass,” Remus responded affectionately. “Fine, I’m on my way.” 

“Good,” Roman said, and footsteps receded from the door.

“Is that… normal for him?” Logan asked.

“What, the rhyming thing? Yeah, he does that, he’s super into wordplay—”

“No, I meant the way he attempted to enter without knocking.” 

“Oh, that. Also yeah. Definitely normal. I can tell him to stop if you want.” 

“I would appreciate it if he knocked in future,” Logan affirmed. “My space and privacy are important to me.” 

“Sure thing. Let’s go.” Remus opened the door and held it for Logan with an elaborate gesture. 

They followed Logan out of the room towards the small circle of people sitting on the floor that Roman waved to them from; there was a larger circle on the other side of the room filled with boys that kept sending furtive glances in the small circle’s direction. A lot of people in both groups were staring at Remus and Logan, actually, and Logan definitely looked uncomfortable with the attention. 

“Oh, I’m the loud screaming one,” Remus said to the room, guessing that was probably what people were staring for. They pointed at Logan. “He’s just the unlucky guy who got stuck as my roommate.” Remus lowered themself to sit between Logan—who had Patton on his other side, leaving Roman on _Patton’s_ other side almost directly across from Remus—and the emo boy in the hoodie, who’d scooted to the side to make room, arms crossed and a small frown on his face. 

“Hi, I’m Remus,” they introduced themself to him. 

“Virgil,” the boy responded grumpily, crossing his arms a little tighter. The grumpiness didn’t seem to be directed specifically at Remus, so they didn’t worry themself about it. They surveyed the group. 

On Virgil’s other side was Janus, who looked bored and was typing on his phone, on what Remus was _almost_ certain was Discord. He didn’t look up, but must have seen Remus staring at him out of the corner of his eye, because he raised his hand and gave them the finger. Remus blew a kiss in response, mostly out of principle, but also because _damn_. 

Beyond Janus sat someone who was sipping an iced coffee and unashamedly ogling several of the boys in the other circle. He was white, wore a black leather jacket, had a pair of sunglasses perched on his forehead, and had bright aqua hair in an undercut. He had a shocking number of piercings that Remus was instantly jealous of—they’d only been able to talk Mama and Mum into two lobe piercings and a double helix on each ear so far; Roman wouldn’t help them convince their mothers they needed more, since he was happy with one standard lobe piercing and nothing more, which Remus was endlessly bitter about. 

On the coffee boy’s other side sat Thomas, who had Roman on his other side. The RA appeared to be counting heads. 

Roman had already managed to draw both Patton and Logan into some sort of conversation, and the three of them were all smiling as Roman displayed something on his phone; Roman and Patton, actually, were laughing. They were too far away for Remus to comfortably join in the conversation, so they moved their attention to the other group of boys on the other end of the room, wondering why there were two separate circles for the dorm meeting. 

The circle on the other side of the room was much bigger, maybe twenty or thirty people. Just looking, Remus would bet their life that more than half of the boys in it would be joining frats at the first opportunity, based solely on their appearances. Remus guessed that the other circle must be from the non-Pride rooms on the floor—there were four hallways branching off from the common area, and everyone in the small circle seemed to live in rooms in just one hall. They hadn’t realized the Pride housing group would be so small, but they would be shocked if anyone in the other circle was part of it. 

“Okay! Lovely to meet you all again. There’s seven of you here, so that’s all of us, and we can get started,” said Thomas, clapping his hands together once. “What is up, everybody? Welcome to the Pride dorm!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remus stop flirting with jan you don't even know him yet challenge.
> 
> yes, logan’s text to thomas about the power strips and the subsequent response are, nearly verbatim, the first text conversation i had with my own RA in my freshman year. and what about it? (L, if you're out there, ily, i'm so sorry for freshman me, and i Will write another essay about how great you are)
> 
> next up: our resident emo, Virgil!
> 
> i made a tumblr! come hang out with me @iclaimedtobethebetterbard!


End file.
